


The wedding of Fred and Hermione (and beyond!)

by moonfairy13



Series: Fremione and the Weasleys [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fred Weasley Lives, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Honeymoon, Marriage, Romance, Soul Bond, Weasley Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-07-03 06:51:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 172,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15813690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonfairy13/pseuds/moonfairy13
Summary: One Saturday morning, Hermione Granger learned of an impending marriage law that could lead her to be paired with a Death Eater. Within an hour, Fred Weasley had - with George's help - declared his love and offered his hand to the witch that he had secretly loved for years. This fic tells the story of what happened afterwards. It has grown and grown far beyond the original plan and is now the happy, low-angst story of Fred and Hermione's wedding and honeymoon amidst the fabulous Weasley family and then beyond, including another Weasley romance and a surprise or two.  :-)





	1. The uninvited wedding guest

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go then... The one-shot that was an experiment to see how this non-fiction author liked writing fiction grew into a small series, and encouragement by the lovely people who have commented has led to this: a multi-chapter fic. This series begins with 'The Line Up and progresses through several other one-shots so, if you've not read them, I highly recommend you start there. I figured out how to post chapters now, so the rest is all one story. Thank you for the support :-)

The next morning seemed to pass in a flash of breakfast and hugs and people running around in last-minute preparation for Fred and Hermione’s wedding, and it felt to Hermione like only minutes had passed before she found herself in a bedroom with Fleur, wearing an elegant wedding dress and the loveliest hairdo that she had ever seen on herself.

“This is beautiful, Fleur,” Hermione said, and thanked the other witch as she finished her make-up with one wave of her wand. Ginny’s approval having been established, they both swept down The Burrow’s stairs and into the living room, where Charlie was waiting for them, in his dress robes. 

“Are you ready, my lady?” he asked, as he offered his arm. Fleur gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek, as Hermione murmured another thank you, and she pressed Ginny’s hand excitedly before running outside in that graceful Beauxbatons style, to take her seat in the garden beside Bill.

“I am as ready as I will ever be, Charlie,” Hermione replied, smiling widely as she put her hand in Charlie’s and allowed him to lead her to the back of the area that had been prepared for the wedding. 

Lee waved to them from the side of the garden and Charlie gave him a thumbs up. As Lee started the music, Charlie led Hermione slowly down the aisle down to the front where Fred and George stood, together with a beaming Kingsley. Ginny followed after them and smiled broadly as she took her place beside Hermione.

“Dearly beloved witches and wizards,” Kingsley began. “On behalf of the Weasley family, I am delighted to welcome you to The Burrow. We are gathered here on this summer solstice day to celebrate the bonding of Hermione Jean Granger and Fred Gideon Weasley and to celebrate their love together until the sun goes down. I know this will be a surprise to some of you, but Hermione, Fred and their family have invited you here today to witness the sharing of their love and the creation of an eternal bond that cannot be broken.”

Fred looked at Hermione and winked. “Alright, love?” he asked her.

She nodded back. “Bit nervous, but excited,” she whispered. He took her hand into his and squeezed it gently.

“Do you have the binding cord, George?” Kingsley smiled at the redhead.

The cord was duly passed to Kingsley, who asked Hermione and Fred to lift their entwined hands and wrapped it three times around them. He spoke some magical words softly over the cord and told the crowd that the time had come for Hermione and Fred to say their vows. “Now is the time,” he smiled to the assembled wizarding folk, “in which, if anyone has a concern about this union, they should speak their piece or forever hold their peace.” He smiled to himself at his play on words.

A crack sounded near the back of the seating area, and they heard Lee shout, “Oi!”. For a moment afterwards there was complete silence, and then a high-pitched voice was heard.

“Hem hem.”

Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny wheeled round to see a pink-clad Dolores Umbridge standing at the other end of the aisle holding a green piece of paper aloft in her hand.

“I am SO sorry to interrupt...”

“Oh, bugger,” said Fred, grasping Hermione’s hand more tightly.

“But I do believe, Minister, that this is an illegal marriage.” Her voice sounded sweet and reasonable but held a note of disgust. 

Several guests gasped. Some hadn’t seen or heard of Umbridge since she had left Hogwarts after administering cruel and unusual punishments to students. Many of the assembled witches and wizards seemed surprised to see her, thinking that she had been dealt with, although there had been so much chaos since the war had ended and the Daily Prophet was such an unreliable source of information that it was hard to keep up with the many happenings of the wizarding world. 

“Excuse me?” Hermione was proud to see Percy rise from his seat, standing up straight and addressing the ex-High Inquisitor. “I do not believe that my family invited you to our party, so perhaps you could explain your presence?”

“I do not,” she said condescendingly to Percy, “need to explain my presence to you or to any of your family, Mister Weasley. I am here to address the Minister and the Minister alone.”

Kingsley put a reassuring hand on Hermione and Fred’s hands, which were still clasped and held by the binding cord. Hermione’s mind raced. As the three of them were now in physical contact, she could apparate them out of there together and perhaps they could continue the bonding. But where would they go? And what would the implications be? Didn’t they need George and Ginny as witnesses for the marriage to be legal? She wondered if she could whisper to Fred to grab hold of George while she reached for Ginny’s hand. But would her magic be strong enough to side-along them all at the same time? She had never heard of such a thing being done before and felt worried at the thought that she might hurt those most dear to her with her crazy plan. No, she needed to think of a better one.

In the meantime, Kingsley was keeping his voice low as he addressed the intruder. “Then kindly hurry up and address me, so that we can get on with our festivities.”

“Oh I think not,” a smirk crossed Umbridge’s face and she picked some imaginary lint off her pink two-piece suit. As she began to speak again, she slowly walked up the aisle, punctuating her words carefully with pointed glances around the room. “There is, is there not, a temporary ban on wizarding marriages until Monday morning, Minister? So perhaps you could tell me, in my capacity as a respected member of the Wizengamot, precisely why this marriage license was registered with your signature on at the Ministry of Magic not half an hour ago?”

“The sneaky cow,” breathed Kingsley, so that only Fred and Hermione could hear. “I left it until the last possible moment to give us the best chance of being undetected. She must have put some kind of trace on the licensing process.”

In a louder voice, he said, “Madam Undersecretary Umbridge, I think you’ll find the marriage licence is legally registered and completely in order. I double checked and signed it myself.”

“Minister Shacklebolt,” Umbridge raised her voice slightly, but the simpering, sickly smile remained fixed on her smug face.

“Bloody woman,” grumbled George under his breath. “I’m going to hex her.” He reached for his wand. “Slugs, toads or worms, love?” he asked Hermione.

“This really is most irregular.” Umbridge wasn’t going to be daunted by the dirty looks that she was getting from the wedding guests. “I insist that you put a stop to these proceedings forthwith. I have informed the other members of the Wizengamot and it has been decided that we will have a full hearing at the Ministry at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, after which the Wizengamot can decide whether or not this wedding will be allowed to go ahead. Aurors are on their way.”

Hermione’s heart sank. She knew that the marriage law would pass first thing tomorrow. They had come so close, only for her chances to be dashed. She and Fred had only needed to say their vows and make love before the sun rose again the next day, and they would have been bonded forever. She would have been safe, and they would have been each other's.

She should have known that things were all going too well. She had enjoyed such a wonderful day yesterday, in the bosom of her adopted family, and the loveliest date with Fred the evening before. Tears filled Hermione’s eyes as she realised that, if Umbridge had anything to do with it, that might not just have been their first date but their only date. Umbridge had always hated Hermione and she was clearly delighted that she had found an opportunity to ruin her life in this way.

Sobbing in despair, she turned to the man she loved. “Please, Fred, don’t let her do this!”


	2. Charlie's top ten

“It’s OK, love, it’s OK. It’s me, Charlie, and you’re OK. Wake up, love.”

Hermione opened her eyes to discover that she was still lying in Bill’s old bed, wrapped in the rather muscular arms of Charlie Weasley, who was whispering gently to her while he stroked her hair.

“I think you were having a nightmare love, but you’re OK. Everything’s OK. You’re safe at The Burrow. The war’s over, we’re all safe. You’re safe. Freddie loves you, and you’re getting married today.”

Hermione lifted her head from his chest.

“Umbridge,” she looked at him, her eyes full of despair.

“Is in Azkaban awaiting trial, last I heard. Is that what your dream was about?” He continued holding Hermione with one arm while reaching over for a tissue with the other. He didn’t generally approve of the feminine touches which had appeared when Molly had turned his and Bill’s room into a guest room, but he now accepted the value of the tissue boxes that his mum had placed on the bedside tables.

“Thank you,” said Hermione, blowing her nose loudly. Then, “sorry!” she giggled, as she realised she had used slightly more force than planned.

“Better out than in,” grinned Charlie. “Now, do you want to tell me about it, or would you like a cup of tea first? Or I can get Fred or Ginny or Mum if you want someone else?”

“Tea would be lovely,” said Hermione, still adjusting to the realisation that none of her nightmare had been real. She looked around to check. She was still in Bill’s old bed, she was warm and safe, she hadn’t yet got dressed for her wedding and, most importantly of all, Dolores Umbridge hadn’t turned up to try and stop her and Fred getting married. “But I’m coming with you to make it. I don’t want to be alone. You’re not too sleepy, Charlie?”

“It’s five thirty. That’s my normal wake-up time on the reserve, sweets. That’s why I was awake and heard you when you called out for Fred. You’re sure you don’t want me to floo to the flat and get him?”

“No, I’m OK. I’m not superstitious, but I quite like some of the traditions, you know, like not seeing him before the wedding.”

After they had crept down the stairs, made a pot of tea and settled onto either end of the sofa, Charlie invited Hermione to tell him about her dream, which she did. He listened carefully, nodding as she told the story. At the end, he only had one question. “Did anything funny happen?”

“How do you mean? Funny weird or funny haha?”

“Funny haha. Did anything happen that could make you laugh now?”

Hermione’s eyes went up to the ceiling as she considered his question. “Well, Kingsley called Umbridge a sneaky cow. You addressed me as ‘my lady’; that made me laugh in the dream. And George asked me what kind of slimy creatures I wanted him to hex her with!”

“There we go, so it wasn’t all bad. Focus on those bits, and then we just need to turn it around and make a good ending. What happened just before you woke up?”

“Umbridge was trying to stop the wedding, Fred and I and Kingsley were touching hands, so I was thinking about how we could apparate and finish it somewhere else, but we would have needed George and Ginny and I thought that was too many people and I would splinch us all.”

“Plus Mum would have never let you forget that. OK, so imagine this,” his arm swept a wide arc around the room. “I turn around to face Umbridge, and shout, ‘never fear, lady ‘Mione, I’ll save you’, and I summon a Welsh green to come flying in from the south, pick Umbridge up in its mouth and fly away with her arms and legs waving wildly in the air. I turn to you and bow and say, ‘there you go, my lady ‘Mione’ and I nod to Fred, who high fives me like he does with George. George points his wand at Umbridge and turns her into a big squirming worm, and the poor dragon is a bit grossed out by that, so drops her from the sky just in time for Umbridge to get hit by a small meteor which comes flying in from behind the hill – but which otherwise leaves mum’s flower beds intact, of course – and the Umbridge worm is now in a million pieces and I say, ‘do please continue, Minister’. And you and Fred say your vows and then you snog and then we all have a lovely party.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a growl, “and then later he takes you back to the magical cove you told me about last night and he lays you down … takes off your dress … kisses you all over until you can’t take it any more and you feel all melty … and then Fred stands up and slowly strips off his robes, revealing his –"

“I’ve got it, Charlie, thank you. I’m happy to let my imagination do the rest!”

“Only if you’re sure, love? It’s really no trouble,” he winked.

“I feel much better.”

“Good, but I have one more idea to get it right out of your head. I know how much you like logic and lists. Given my superior knowledge of the Weasley family and what was going on here while you were out snogging Freddie,” he waggled his eyebrows in the predictable manner, “I’m going to see if I can think of ten reasons why you don’t need to worry.” 

“OK,” Hermione sat up a bit straighter on the sofa. “This sounds potentially therapeutic.”

Charlie spread out both of his hands and moved each finger or thumb in turn as he began to count. “First, Bill and Fleur already started putting up extra wards yesterday, and no-one will be able to apparate in and out once the invited guests are here and the wedding has begun.”

Hermione nodded. “Good one. I didn’t know they were planning that, but very sensible.”

Charlie wiggled his index finger. “Second, Harry and Ron have chatted up a few mates from the Auror training programme and promised them a night out next week in exchange for standing guard around the perimeter during the wedding and the party.”

“Bless them.”

“Indeed. Third, I haven’t talked to Kingsley and dad thinks he’s deliberately staying away until the last minute as a means of protecting you, but I know he will have done everything necessary to ensure your safety from a Ministry perspective.”

“Mmmmm, I’m sure he will.”

Charlie paused to sip his tea. “Shall I go on?” 

Hermione nodded. “Yes, this is helpful, thanks.”

“Fourthly … is that a word?” 

“It is now.”

“Good. Fourthly, you know that Umbridge really is in Azkaban and Fred said the Ministry was almost deserted yesterday. No-one is going to be there on a Sunday, especially on the solstice, to give a rip about what we’re up to at The Burrow. That’s why this is such a genius plan. Even though it was all a bit accidental.”

“You’re right.”

“Fifth, even if no-one knows what’s really going on yet, there’s not a guest who wouldn’t turn their wand on someone trying to get in the way of you and Fred being together. You’re both war heroes. And six,” he moved to his other hand, “I was there when mum made that floo-call for you yesterday and I know that your real escort down the aisle would have razed Umbridge to the ground.”

Hermione’s eyes became wide. “Does everyone know who we’ve asked?”

“No, love. I just walked in at the wrong time. Mum swore me to silence. But, for the record, I think you’ve made a fabulous choice there. I might have a daughter myself one day who’ll want me to be there for her. Same for dad and all us brothers. What you’re doing … well I can’t think of anyone more deserving of walking you to Fred.”

“Move on, Charlie” Hermione waggled her hand in front of her face. “I’m not crying again all day today, I’m really not!”

“Where did I get to?” Charlie frowned.

“Seven.”

“Seventhly, then,” he paused to think. “Oh yes, seventhly, I’m not sure I should be telling you this but you probably saw yesterday that there are rather a lot of Wheezes’ fireworks around, so we have plenty of distractions should we need them. Eighthly, while you were on your date last night, George and Angelina temporarily placed wards on her dad’s cove that link to your magic. Ange is finishing the spell this morning and once she has finished your honeymoon preparations,” more eyebrow wiggling ensued, “you and Fred are the only people who will be able to apparate in or out of there until you’ve completed the bond.”

“Wow.”

“We’ve given a lot of thought to this, love. For number nine, I just have three words. Ginevra Molly Weasley.”

“Yeah, she’s like a battalion in her own right.”

“Absolutely, love. Ten is similar. Mum is so happy to see one of her boys with you that neither Umbridge or anyone else would last a minute if they threatened your marriage. It’ll make what she did to Bellatrix look tame. And a bonus eleven,” he lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned towards her, “as long as Kingsley can get the bonding words out, all you and Fred need to do is apparate to your secret hidey hole and seal your bond and then you’ll never have to worry about any of this again.”

Hermione blushed.

“See, I knew I’d get you thinking about sex again if I kept going for long enough.” 

Hermione laughed. “Good work, Charlie.”

Charlie leaned back. “Why thank you, my Lady ‘Mione. Have we covered all the bases to your satisfaction?”

“We have, Sir Charles!” She bowed and then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he pulled her into his arms for a brotherly snuggle just as the door to the living room was pushed open.

“I thought I heard voices,” said Ginny. “Good morning! How are you both?”

“Good, sis. Probably not as satisfied as you, though. Good night?”

Ginny’s eyes went from one to the other until Hermione explained. “You sounded busy when I came up, so I slept in Bill’s bed. Had to tell Charlie why he was getting a roommate for the night. He’s not going to say anything.”

“I am too. I’m going to give you a lesson in silencing spells,” he winked at his sister, who didn’t move a muscle.

“How long have you been up with Hermione this morning, Charlie?” Ginny’s eyes narrowed.

“About an hour, Gin. But given that you were the reason that she was with me, I hardly think you’re in a position to question me!”

“No, silly,” Ginny slapped him gently. “I don’t mean that, and thanks for keeping your voice down, because the last thing we need today is Mum going off on one about the sleeping arrangements! I mean this, you unobservant git!”. She lifted Hermione’s left hand and held her fingers just a couple of inches from Charlie’s face so he could see Hermione’s engagement ring. “Can you see it now?”

“Oh.” Charlie realised what she meant and laughed. “Guess I wasn’t as attentive a sleepover partner as I thought!”

“It’s not a problem,” said Ginny, taking Hermione’s other hand and pulling her up from the sofa. “But Fleur and I will be taking over from here. So once we’ve all had breakfast and sat around for a bit and planned the day, you,” she pointed to Hermione, “get first crack at the bathroom. I’ll get my nice coconut hair potion out and you,” she turned and pointed at Charlie, “are allowed to use it today and today alone as thanks for last night.” She wagged her finger in time with her words. “Don’t tell Bill.” 

Ginny turned back to Hermione, who was trying hard to keep up. “And then Fleur has you booked into salon Delacour.” Then Ginny pointed at Charlie again. “Which is your bedroom but not with you in attendance, just so we’re clear. You need to take your stuff out after breakfast and get ready in Ron’s room.” 

Charlie nodded obediently. Ginny was so like Molly at times, and none of her brothers dared argue when a certain look crossed her face. “I will have the bath after you, ‘Mione, and then I’ll join you at some point. And when I’m done, well then it’s a free for all in the bathroom, but we’re not going to worry about when these smelly gits all get ready. Now, here’s mum with breakfast, so tuck in and drink lots of tea, because once you’ve got your dress on I’m pretty sure Fleur won’t be letting you eat or drink til after you’re bonded.”


	3. The dress

Hermione enjoyed her wedding morning breakfast and bath, showed everyone her new ring, blushed a little when asked how her date with Fred went and even had a little time to sit under her favourite tree and relax for half an hour. She had a cup of tea with Arthur in his shed, a quick chat with Harry (in which she decided not to mention the sounds that she had heard coming from Ginny’s room the previous evening) and then another cup of tea with Molly at the kitchen table. 

Harry popped back while she was still in the kitchen, and shyly opened his hand to show her a small coin.

“It’s a sixpence and it was my mother’s,” he explained. “She wore it in her shoe when she got married, for luck. I talked to Molly before I flooed to Gringotts to get it and she already has one for Ginny when the time comes. You’re like my sister and … well as your mum’s not here I want you to have my mum’s and you should keep it and pass it on to your own daughters, if you and Fred have any.” 

Before she could say anything other than a quick and emotional thank you, Harry kissed her curls and slipped away to join the Weasley boys in the garden.

As the clock struck one, Fleur led Hermione by the hand into Bill and Charlie’s old bedroom. Pointing her wand at Charlie’s bed, she shrunk it down to give them plenty of floor space before turning back to the younger witch. Hermione hoped that Charlie had taken Ginny’s words seriously and taken what he needed before he had been shut out of his room and banished to Ron’s.

“This must be hard. So sudden. I want to lend you my wedding dress, and of course we’ll transfigure it into something that suits you. And I promise no frilliness.”

Fleur’s French accent made her last word difficult to understand, but the intention on her face was pure. Hermione knew that she could trust the former Triwizard champion, and she had a certain respect for the woman who was as courageous as any Gryffindor and as kind as a Hufflepuff.

“Oh Fleur,” said Hermione. “This is so kind of you. I hadn’t even imagined I would wear a wedding dress until you mentioned it yesterday.”

“Well you need not worry” Fleur said kindly. “Bill was just finishing the wards and he is in our attic getting mine right now and he will be back with it very soon.”

Hermione nodded. Things had moved so fast. Just yesterday morning, she was single and without worry. Now she was preparing for a wedding which would happen in just a couple of hours. While she was certain that she was marrying the right wizard however, last night’s nightmare had made her realise there was still a chance that things could go awry and leave her at risk of having to marry someone who would be a lot less kind to her than Fred.

“Oh chérie,” whispered Fleur kindly, stroking Hermione’s face and pulling her into a warm embrace.

“I’m OK, Fleur” said Hermione, smiling. “I think I did all my crying yesterday!” 

“I am sure it has been many waves, like a roller coaster. But I am prepared for this!” She reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of cold champagne and three tall stemmed glasses. “This is a tradition in my part of France … champagne and wedding dresses. You will join me?”

“That would be lovely.” Hermione realised that, actually, she really could use a drink. 

Fleur finished pouring the champagne and handed Hermione a full glass, delicately clinking the rim of it with her own. “Hermione … à votre santé … to your health, and I hope your marriage is as wonderful as mine.” 

“Thank you, Fleur. Thank you so much for this.” Hermione touched the French witch’s arm as her eyes turned to the remaining glass of champagne which stood on the bedside table. “Who’s the third glass for? You know Ginny is in the bath, and isn’t as interested in clothes as some people think?”

“Well … if we are going to make the perfect dress, I need Bill to stay.” Fleur gave a Gallic shrug which made Hermione smile. “He invented the most brilliant transfiguration charm which means he can hold the dress in flux while I layer different things on the top. Is OK with you?”

“As long as I’m keeping my underwear on, it’s no different from swimming, I guess.” For a moment, Hermione wondered if the champagne was a ploy to lower her inhibitions, but decided she didn’t care either way. She was enjoying the bubbles too much. She hoped George and Charlie had plenty more of it ready behind their bar.

Fleur reached behind her and picked up a small bag, giving Hermione a quick peek inside. It contained a beautiful silky bra and knicker set. Hermione's eyes lit up when she saw it. Fleur smiled to see her reaction and then leaned forward and whispered into Hermione’s ear. “Allow me…” She waved her wand twice, and Hermione giggled as she felt her underwear change. “Something new. Just from me. Though they are very beautiful, so perhaps you will want everyone to see?!”

“I’m not sure I would go quite that far!” laughed Hermione, but she did feel very beautiful in the luxurious underwear which was a far cry from the cotton bra and knickers that she had put on after her bath.

As Hermione began to remove her top and jeans, she saw Bill return with Fleur’s wedding dress, which he placed in his wife’s arms with a quick kiss to her lips before picking up his champagne, tipping his glass to them both and taking a long drink. He settled onto his old bed, crossing his legs and arranging the pillows behind him as he got comfortable. “Not ogling, love,” he reassured Hermione. “Just gonna put the curse breaking training to good use as a dressmaker. If only the goblins at Gringotts knew what I was doing with their expensive education.”

Hermione watched as he lifted his wand and moved Fleur’s wedding dress towards her. It seemed to sparkle before it settled over her body. As the pair worked together, Hermione realised why they needed two spellcasters; Bill was holding the dress in a state of shimmering flux while Fleur was trying out different styles and shapes, layering them on top of each other. 

They made a wonderful team. Hermione wondered briefly if she should turn to watch herself in the mirror, but decided that, actually, Fleur was a better judge than she herself was. She was awed by the way the two worked together. “This is very impressive,” she said.

“It’s also very necessary if you live with the lovely Fleur, whose penchant for new dresses exceeds even our combined salaries,” Bill chuckled. “Kind of funny really. Fleur looks like a fashion model and is actually a Triwizard champion turned badass cursebreaker, whereas I look the part of the leather-clad cursebreaker but spend my spare time helping create cutting-edge ladies’ fashion.”

“It’s a bit of a shame you weren’t in my year at school,” Hermione grinned at him. “There were a couple of girls who would have given their eye teeth to have your skills at their disposal.”

“Well I am trusting you not to share this with anyone other than Fred, thank you. Especially not Charlie. Not sure what it would do to the manly wolf image.” Bill rolled his eyes and laughed again.

“Your secret is safe with me.” She turned to Fleur, who had paused and was now watching her husband for a reaction. Hermione saw Bill’s eyes widen, and took this as a sign to turn to the mirror.

“Oh,” she breathed, as she saw herself in a beautiful white dress with a flowing skirt and a fitted top. “I love it.”

“You look like a fairy princess!” Fleur declared, lowering her wand and reaching for her champagne.

“Possibly more importantly for my brother, you look edible,” Bill added quietly, carefully ending the spell that he had been holding on the dress. When Hermione turned to him quickly, he raised his palms in a gesture of surrender and grinned. “Just saying, love! My lovely wife has done an amazing job, and I approve wholeheartedly.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” Hermione jokingly curtseyed and then twirled before hugging Fleur. “I really do love it. Merci beaucoup.”

“C'est un plaisir, ma soeur.” Fleur nodded briefly and then reached for Hermione’s champagne glass, taking it from her.

“We need to check one thing, and for this we need Bill for one more moment before we let him rejoin his brothers.”

“What’s that?” asked Hermione.

“I am loaning you Bill for a quick dance to check that you can move your arms freely enough in the dress. If not, I will adjust the seams.”

“Oh, of course!” Hermione smiled.

Fleur stepped backwards as the tall man stood and held out his hand towards Hermione. She stepped into his arms and he twirled her around the small bedroom a few times, lifting and lowering her arms before they mutually decided that the dress was perfect in every way. Bill bowed to her as he let go of her hands and slipped his arm around his wife.

“You really have done a wonderful job, pet.” He kissed Fleur on the nose.

“Merci, my love,” she replied. “And now you have something borrowed as well as something new, but don’t worry about the rest. We have it covered.”

Before Hermione could reply, there was a knock on the door.

“Are you decent?” 

“Only if you’ve left your other half elsewhere,” shouted Bill. “Groom can’t see the bride and all that.”

“It’s just me,” replied George as he walked in the door, and then stopped in his tracks when he saw Hermione.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Language!” teased Fleur, earning herself an eye roll from George.

“You look bloody amazing,” George said to Hermione. “He’s going to come in his pants when he sees you walking down the aisle.”

“I rather hope not,” Hermione replied, wrinkling her nose. “That’s not really the kind of ambience I was going for!”

George tipped his head, considering. “Nah, I reckon it’ll be OK, love. You do look lush though.” He spread out the fingers of one hand so he could count off the messages that he had brought. Hermione smiled, remembering Charlie doing something similar early that morning. “OK, so Fred wants me to say good morning and he can’t wait to marry you. But they sent me so he wouldn’t see you or the dress.” He touched the next finger. “Ange sends this,” he reached into his pocket and passed Hermione a small gift-wrapped box, “and says to tell you to open it right away and that everything is set for later at the cove and you’re not to worry about anything. And Ginny…”

“Doesn’t trust that you’ll remember all the important bits so has come herself.”

“Oh, Angie’s a star” Hermione reached for the box gratefully.

“Open it now, don’t forget,” he said. “It’s something to wear for the wedding. She thinks I don’t know what it is, but she’s wrong,” he winked. “It’s blue, by the way.”

“OK, George!”

As Fleur shooed George and Bill out of the room, Hermione managed to give Bill a quick hug and whisper a thank you to him, to which he replied with a “shhh” and tapped the side of his nose. “Secret women’s business,” he said. “You can’t ever tell.”

“OK” said Hermione, “But next time I have to dress up for a dance, I’m coming to get ready at Shell Cottage! I’ll bring the champagne.”

Hermione heard Bill laughing all the way to the kitchen. She sat down on his bed and opened the box that George had given her. Blushing, she held the lacy garter up to show Fleur and Ginny.

“Oh nice one, Ange,” said Ginny. “Come on, ‘Mione, let’s get this on!”

Fleur wasn’t aware of this particular tradition but gallantly helped Ginny to persuade Hermione to let her ease the garter up her right leg until it adorned her upper thigh. Hermione had insisted that she wasn’t going to wear any stockings or tights, given the hot weather, and announced that she was getting married in comfy shoes. Fleur wasn’t at all convinced, but eventually gave in to peer pressure and transfigured a pair of Hermione’s trainers into something that went slightly better with her wedding gown.

As Hermione was slipping the sixpence from Harry into the side of one of her ballet shoes, Molly knocked and then peeped round the door, holding a wooden box in her hands.

“Come in!” 

“Now dear,” she said to Hermione, sitting alongside her on the bed. “I believe you need something old. Well there’s nothing in here that’s younger than you are, so I’ve brought the whole lot and you can see if anything takes your fancy.”

Molly opened her jewellery box and the four witches all peered in. Hermione spotted some rose-shaped earrings and said, “Oh Molly, I’d love to wear these, if I may?”

“Of course you may dear, that’s the whole point!” replied Molly, pulling the earrings from their velvety surround and handing them to Ginny, who secured them in Hermione’s ears. “I wore those to the very first Ministry Ball that we attended after Arthur began to work there. I’d like you to have them now.” She dabbed at her eyes as she took in the sight of Hermione. “Oh, I promised Fred I wouldn’t cry until at least halfway through the ceremony!”

“It’s OK, I think you’re allowed,” Hermione reassured. “Fleur, is there any more champagne?” 

Fleur raised her eyebrows. “Of course. I was just waiting until the boys had gone. She poured a glass for Molly and Ginny and topped up her own, although Hermione declined a second glass with a wave of her hand. 

“I can’t risk Kingsley refusing to marry me because I’m tipsy!” she laughed, and then turned to thank Molly again for the earrings. “You’ve really been so kind.”

“Well it’s only what you deserve,” Molly told her. “And it’s totally up to you and of course I understand that you’re in a special situation, but I want you to know you’re very welcome to call me Mum if you’d like to.”

Hermione leaned in for a hug. “Mum…” she tried out, her voice slightly wobbling with the memory that her own mother couldn’t be there. “I would really like that.”

“No crying, love,” Molly said, rubbing her back. “Here, one sip won’t hurt, and Kingsley won’t dare say no if I’m in full sail…” Hermione smiled, took the offered glass and had a quick swig of Molly’s champagne before the Weasley matriarch took it back and downed the rest in one go. 

“Hermione.” Fleur was all business again. “It is time for hair and make up.” 

“You best behave now,” Molly said, nudging Hermione in the side as if they were naughty schoolgirls. 

Ginny looked at Fleur. “Sorry … she doesn’t get out much…”

Fleur just laughed and raised her wand. “OK, Hermione, we’re nearly there. Are you ready for the finishing touches? Then we can start on Ginny!”


	4. The ceremony

As Ginny made her way down the aisle, Fred found himself briefly wondering who Hermione was going to walk with, or whether she would be coming to meet him alone, as the independent woman that she was. If she had chosen to walk with someone, Fred mused, he wouldn’t know whether to bet on his mum and dad, Ron and Harry or a wildcard guess like Charlie or Bill. But he did a quick head count as he waited for Hermione to appear and knew that it wouldn’t be Harry or a Weasley.

When he saw who Hermione had asked, it was George who muttered, “oh, of course … that’s perfect”. Fred was rendered unable to voice his own thoughts as soon as he saw Hermione and her escort. In fact, his eyes filled with tears, and he made no attempt to wipe them. His bride looked so happy in Fleur’s transfigured wedding dress as she walked down the aisle on Minerva McGonagall’s arm. 

Hermione smiled and looked around in wonder at their guests as she made her way towards him, but her eyes kept returning to Fred’s.

When Hermione reached Fred, who was standing under the rose-covered arch that Ginny and Fleur had made for them, she turned and embraced her old professor. 

“Good luck, Ms Granger, Mr Weasley. I wish you both a very happy marriage,” she said, nodding to Fred as she stepped back. Hermione whispered a “thank you”, but was interrupted as Fred strode forward and pulled Minerva into his chest, giving her the biggest hug she had received in years. He was unable to speak, but he didn’t have to; their teacher knew what he was trying to say. “Mr Weasley,” she spoke quietly into his ear. “I trust you will take very good care of my favourite ex-student?” 

Fred just nodded into her shoulder, as George launched himself into the hug too, burying his face in Minerva’s other shoulder. Hermione wasn’t sure whether this was borne of delight at Minerva’s presence, the desire to save his twin from having a complete emotional breakdown alone, or a bit of both. Ginny discreetly transfigured a petal from her bouquet into a hanky and handed it to Fred, who gave her a kiss on the cheek. Leaning forward, she took Hermione’s flowers out of her friend’s hands in the hope of saving them from being completely crushed by the overemotional Weasley brothers. 

“Are we all OK to continue?” asked Kingsley quietly, somewhat amused by the display. Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny and Minerva nodded, and Kingsley began to address the room, giving them a chance to compose themselves. In the second row, Bill turned to Angelina and grinned, saying, “and Fred’s generally the _less_ emotional twin … I’m going to sit in the front row for yours…” 

Angelina rolled her eyes. “Oh don’t even go there, Bill. After seeing what they’ve managed to come up with in just a few hours? I think we should elope!”

Kingsley Shacklebolt had a wonderful way with words. He welcomed everyone to Hermione and Fred’s wedding in his deep, reassuring voice and encouraged those attending to remember and celebrate their own love as well as that of the young couple whose bonding they were here to witness. He spoke of the recently ended war, and of the hope that sprung from the fact that Hermione and Fred could celebrate their marriage in love and without fear. 

Fred and Hermione were rather too wrapped up in gazing at each other as they stood under the arch to recall his words first-hand. Luckily, as he had promised, Bill was paying close attention so that he could capture his own memories of the event. Years later, the family would still be able to relive the quiet but moving speech in which Kingsley had made it sound as if the young couple had planned this day for weeks, instead of it having all happened in just over twenty four hours.

Next, Kingsley spoke of the deep, everlasting and unbreakable bond that Hermione and Fred had chosen to create between themselves. It was, he said, a matter for every couple to decide what kind of marriage bond was right for them, and he reiterated that everybody present should welcome the freedom of choice that had been won with the war, as they remembered those who had given their own lives in the fight for just this kind of freedom. Hermione held her breath when he asked if anyone had an objection to their marriage, remembering her nightmare. But just as quickly, Charlie caught her eye and she smiled as she also recalled the antidote that he had concocted for her on the sofa in the early hours of that morning.

“We will begin the ceremony,” Kingsley said, “by blessing the bonding cord. In a moment, I will invite you all to raise your wands when I hold up the cord that Hermione and Fred have chosen; and to send parchment stars into the air as you send good wishes into their cord. As you may know, the cord is traditionally taken by the couple’s family after the ceremony and tied to their bed for them to find after their honeymoon. In this way, it serves as an eternal reminder of their promises to each other and of our well wishes to them.”

Kingsley reached onto the cloth-covered table beside him, took the cord into his left hand and held it aloft so that all could see it. “Witches and wizards, please join me in sending your love and good wishes for this couple into the cord that will bind and bond them, now and forever.”

Hermione giggled a little as a shower of stars of all colours rained down upon them. She had not known about this part of the ceremony beforehand and was utterly charmed by it. A few stars slipped into the front of her wedding dress. She watched Fred watching their descent and then caught his eye as he looked up again. His eyebrows gave the tiniest twitch, and she knew that he would be following up on their whereabouts later. Hermione felt warm and soft as she realised that they were coming ever closer to their wedding night.

Satisfied that the binding cord was now thoroughly blessed, Kingsley asked Hermione and Fred to place their right hands together, palms facing. He gently moved their fingers so that they were interlinking and began to wind the cord around their clasped hands, chanting the beginning of the ancient bonding spell as he did. The guests sat in a reverent silence. Everyone could now feel the ancient earth magic beginning to surround the circle in which they all sat. 

“The rings?” Kingsley turned to George, who proudly opened his hand while turning his head slightly to smile at his mother. He had sworn to Molly that morning that he would not do any tricks or pretend to have lost the rings when his moment came. It wasn’t just because Molly understood the utter sacredness of this particular type of ceremony; she felt Hermione had enough to worry about, and he respected that. 

George placed the rings into Kingsley’s hand but, when he then turned to Hermione and smiled, he was concerned to see that she looked slightly panicked. Frowning questioningly in an attempt to find out what was wrong, she showed George her left hand, on which her engagement ring still sat. She had forgotten to check whether to take it off before the ceremony. Now that her right hand was bound to Fred’s, she couldn’t do much about it.

George looked at Ginny in a panic. “Take it off her,” she whispered to him. She was too far away to reach for it herself but George understood. Bowing slightly to Hermione, he carefully held her left hand in his own and took the engagement ring, putting it on his little finger for safekeeping before stepping back into position beside Fred.

Kingsley offered the wedding rings to the four directions, blessing them. He then held his hand out to Fred and asked him to take Hermione’s ring. “Place it on Hermione’s finger, use her full name and tell her of your love for her, in whatever words come to you in this moment.”

Fred did as he was bid. “Hermione Jean Granger; you are everything I could want in a woman and a witch. I am proud of your bravery, awed by your brains, stunned by your kindness and enchanted by the beauty of your mind, body and soul. I love you, and I give you this ring as a promise that I will walk beside you for the rest of my life, sharing your happiness and sorrow, helping you achieve your hopes and dreams, supporting and protecting you and giving you the love you deserve.”

Hermione had tears in her eyes, which she needed to blink away so that she could see to slip Fred’s ring onto his finger when it was her turn.

“Frederick Gideon Weasley; I have loved you for years and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life beside you, no matter what lies ahead. I love you for your kindness, your compassion, your clever creativity and for your deep love of your family and friends. I so value the chaos and joy that you have always brought to my life, and I truly can’t wait to continue our journey in this marriage. I promise to love, protect and care for you forever.” She carefully slid his ring down his finger.

“Now please place your left hands on each other’s waist and step closer together.” Kingsley’s voice was low now, perhaps because of the increase in the magic that was swirling around them. The couple moved closer; Hermione’s head tipped back slightly so that she could look into Fred’s eyes. They both felt the power of the magic and of their love for each other. Their right hands remained clasped and bound together between their chests as Kingsley continued with the next part of the bonding spell.

Raising his wand towards their clasped hands, Kingsley spoke the incantations that would seal their bond. Mostly in Latin, he finished in English for the benefit of the younger guests. “I call upon the magic of the earth, on this solstice day, to begin the binding of these two people, now and forever. They have until sunrise tomorrow to seal their bond together and finalise the blending of their magical cores. From that point on, no human, beast or force of nature will be able to break their bond. Love each other, be happy together and know that you will always be supported in this bonding by the magic and the love of your family and friends. Congratulations, Hermione and Fred.”

Unbeknown to the happy couple and unlike in other types of wedding ceremonies, the celebrant of the kind of bonding never needed to give verbal permission for the bride and groom to kiss. The magic that issued from Kingsley’s wand as he finished the incantation not only sent another shower of stars – this time golden ones – over Fred and Hermione; it caused them to feel the love they already shared in every cell of their bodies and drew them together in a passionate kiss over which they had little control. Fred had intended to dip Hermione backwards as he kissed her, in a crowd-pleasing show of his affection, but in the moment that was not to be. They were both overwhelmed by the magic and simply wound their left hands more tightly around each other as they kissed breathlessly, unable to draw apart for several moments while their guests clapped loudly. Even when their lips separated, they couldn’t stop looking into each others eyes; such was the power of the bonding magic.

Kingsley’s joy-filled laugh could be heard above the clapping. “May I be the first,” he beamed, “to offer my congratulations to you both.” He kissed Hermione’s cheek and clapped Fred on the shoulder, unable to shake his hand as it was still tied to Hermione’s. “And now,” he indicated their tied hands and addressed the crowd, “we no longer need the cord to tie you, as we have bound you with magic.” 

With a small wand movement, the cord came untied and slipped into his hand. He handed it to George and Ginny with a bow. Aware that taking responsibility for tying the cord to the newly-wedded couple’s bed was considered a great privilege, they stepped forward, as they had previously agreed. George held the cord out towards their parents while Ginny said, “Mum, Dad, you’ve got the happiest marriage that we know of. Would you do this for Fred and Hermione?”

Molly’s face was a picture as she nodded fiercely, and Arthur reached for the cord, clasping George’s hand in the process. “We’ll see it done right, son,” he told them.

Hermione and Fred were now facing their guests, arms still wrapped around each other. Kingsley indicated that they may like to make their way back down the aisle. “Witches and wizards,” he declared, “Please join me in congratulating Hermione and Fred Granger-Weasley!”

There was more clapping from all sides and cheerful music from Lee’s direction as the couple walked down the aisle. Ginny stepped forward, expecting George to take her arm and follow them but instead he cocked his head at Harry, whispering, “get up here, mate.” 

Harry stepped forward, a little confused until George whispered quickly into his ear. Smiling, Harry offered Ginny his arm and they began to follow Fred and Hermione. George then turned and bowed to Minerva. “May I?” he asked, offering her his arm. His old professor gave him a big smile. “You may, Mr Weasley,” she said, allowing him to tuck her hand into his arm and escort her down the aisle as if she were a visiting queen. 

“My last and happy task,” Kingsley told the guests, “is to thank you for coming, to thank the Weasley family for inviting us to join them today and to wish you all a very happy summer solstice day. Let us be merry!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still enjoying? :-) And did anyone guess Hermione's escort correctly?! Next week we'll find out what happens when they reach the other end of the aisle :D


	5. The pull of the bond

As Fred and Hermione walked back down the aisle, they only had eyes for each other, and several of their guests turned to their partners or friends to comment on this. Few knew that the couple had only known of their shared love for a day and a half, with a good number of people assuming that the war heroine and the resistance fighter had deliberately kept their relationship secret to protect each other during the war.

Hand in hand, the happy couple reached the back of their wedding area and stopped under a small bower while the remainder of their wedding party made their way more slowly through their family and friends, greeting and chatting with people on the way. Fred took the opportunity to lift Hermione into his arms and whirl her gently around.

“We did it, love! We’re married, and you’re safe! It doesn’t matter what the law says now; you’re taken, and no-one can make you do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know Fred!” Hermione took his cheeks in her hands and peppered his face with kisses. “Though I still can’t quite believe it … it seems like a bit of a dream!”

“A good one, I hope?”

Hermione nodded. There would be time to tell him about last night’s nightmare later. 

Slowly, Fred let Hermione slip back down his body, carefully supporting her weight until he was sure that she was steady on her feet. He leaned down, looking into her eyes. “I love you, Mrs Granger-Weasley”.

Hermione leaned in to kiss him again. “I love you too, Mr Granger-Weasley.” She smiled. “I like the sound of that!”

Fred pulled Hermione even closer, pressing himself against her. “This bond is something else … I want you more than ever,” he said. 

Her breath hitched. “Me too, Fred,” she breathed. “We’ll be together in a few hours...” 

“I honestly don’t know if I can wait that long, love.” Fred picked up a curl of her hair and played it through his fingers, still pressing his body to with Hermione’s. “If it was up to me, I would finish sealing our bond right now … the bonding magic feels so powerful.” 

“I know, Fred” she murmured into his ear. “It’s affecting me too…”

“No one’s looking … I could just burrow under your dress,” he smiled into her neck. “Or,” he looked more serious as he glanced to one side to see how long they had before the others reached them, “we could apparate to our cove for an hour and then come back to the party.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She was sorely tempted, but not quite convinced. “The thing with that is, Fred…” she said in a whisper. “Everyone will know what we’ve been doing!”

“The thing with that is, Hermione…” he replied, the grin still plastered on his face. “Come the morning, when our bond is sealed, everyone’s going to know anyway!”

She giggled. “I know. And I’d love to.” She was feeling more and more turned on by his touch but realised that they needed to greet their family and friends. “Ginny and Harry and George and Minerva are nearly here though…”

“OK,” he sighed, pulling away, while gazing into his bride’s eyes once more. “But come tonight … I’m going to make you feel SO good…”

Hermione squeezed his hand and swallowed. Then she took a deep breath, concentrating on trying to dampen her ardour. “What’s next?” she asked him, looking around. “I hadn’t really thought beyond the actual ceremony, other than I know your family has made food and cake and we’ll probably dance and there are fireworks later.”

“Next it’s my turn,” came a voice from beside her. 

As Hermione turned, George caught her by the hand, pulling her into his arms and kissing her cheek soundly. “If I may, dear brother?” He held out the finger sporting Hermione’s engagement ring and raised his eyebrows at Fred, who laughed and nodded. George went down on one knee. “With this ring, I take thee as my wife-in-law. I promise to take very good care of you when Fred’s not about, love your babies as my own and help you get your fair share of dinner when Ron is at the table.” Hermione laughed as she allowed George to put her engagement ring back on her finger.

“Very touching Georgie, but you may wish to get your arse back up now before mum or Angelina start to wonder if you’ve got some sort of triad thing going on.” Ginny flicked the back of her brother’s head as she came up behind them, still holding Harry’s arm.

George grinned as he stood back up, launching himself at his brother for a hug. “Funny, Gin. Maybe in another lifetime though,” he winked at Hermione, who laughed.

Harry, Ginny and Minerva added their congratulations and soon enough they had, without really intending to, formed an informal receiving line, as their guests started to leave the area where the ceremony had been held and head back out into the sunny garden. Charlie had been the first to pass them, giving Hermione a quick kiss and clasping his brother’s hand on his way through. “Mum wants me to get some drinks on the go for this lot,” he said. “So I’ll catch you properly later.” Just a couple of minutes later, Molly and Arthur had joined the little group and they all took turns greeting and chatting to their guests as they passed by on their way to Charlie’s bar. 

“Ladies, gentlemen, witches, wizards…” Arthur’s voice sounded above the noise once everyone had said hello to Fred and Hermione. “We invite you to relax and enjoy the garden. There are drinks by the orchard and food on the grill. Thank you so much for joining us; please make yourselves at home.”

Spotting an opportunity for more alone time as many of their family and friends headed for the refreshments, Fred pulled Hermione behind a tree.

“I like your dress,” he told her, as his fingers wandered around the back of her waist. 

“Mmmmmm,” she murmured, nestling into his touch again. “They did a wonderful job.”

“They?” asked Fred. “You mean Fleur and Ginny?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Hermione smiled.

Fred’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she promised. 

He nodded. “Was everything OK after you got in last night, love? Charlie told George you had a bit of a nightmare?” His fingers continued to wander over her body.

“Mmmmm.” She nuzzled into his neck, licking the shell of his ear before speaking softly into it. “I was going to tell you about it later; I didn’t realise you knew already. I was sleeping in Charlie and Bill’s room, and Charlie helped no end. He got up with me and we drank tea and talked it through.”

“But don’t you have a bed in Ginny’s room?” Fred looked confused and pulled back slightly.

“Yes, and you can ask why I ended up on the other side of the landing if you want, but it involves your sister being rather more grown up than you all seem to want her to be, so think carefully before you do! I sought refuge and Charlie let me sleep in Bill’s bed.” Hermione’s hands moved lower, playing with the fabric of Fred’s robes.

Fred kissed her neck as he chuckled. “It’s always been musical beds at The Burrow, though if I had put money on which of my brothers you would room with on our wedding eve, I would have picked Ron and Harry…”

“Not with Ron’s snoring, thank you! I’m glad you’re OK with it, Fred. I imagined you would be, but some men would probably find it odd.”

Fred shrugged, moving his lips to her shoulder. “I trust you with all of them, love. And I’m glad Charlie was there for you. Must thank him later.”

“Me too, actually. Ginny sent him off with a flea in his ear when she got into Molly mode this morning, and I’ve hardly seen him since. God, this is hard…” she wound the fingers of one hand into Fred’s hair as she tailed off.

“What is it, love?”

“Well I really feel we ought to go and see people; mingle a bit … but all I want to do is be here with you...”

Fred murmured in agreement and leaned down for another kiss, gently pressing her back against the tree. As he did, his fingers began to wander down over her bottom and the curves of her thighs. He was surprised when he felt the soft ridge of Hermione’s garter. Unsure what it was, he played with it for a moment, making Hermione giggle.

“What’s this,” he asked.

“A present from Angelina,” she winked, still playing with his hair.

“For you or me?”

“Both, I think.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll find that out later too, I’m sure.” Hermione stroked his arm. “Especially if George has anything to do with it.”

Fred groaned. “Why is everything happening later? I normally enjoy mum’s solstice gatherings, but I want you so much, love, and I don’t know how I’m going to last.”

Hermione agreed with him and leaned her forehead on his chest. The bonding magic was pulsing insistently between them, and it was hard for her to think of anything else except holding and touching and loving the redheaded wizard in her arms.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next few hours if I’m going to continue to feel like this. All I want is to press myself against you … be alone with you.” She leaned in closer, whispering. “Fred, I’ve never felt this much desire for anyone … even you. And I want to talk to our guests but that will mean leaving your arms. How am I going to do that? I’m beginning to think maybe we _should_ apparate to the cove for an hour.”

Fred leaned down and nuzzled her neck again. He couldn’t get enough of the way she smelled.

“Yeah, it’s crazy magic, love.”

He heard footsteps and looked up to see Bill striding towards them, closely followed by Charlie. Both of Fred’s older brothers had wide grins on their faces as they approached the couple who were wrapped around each other.

“We wondered,” started Bill, “if you might be having a problem that we could help with?”

Hermione blushed. “I suppose it would be fair to say that we are having a small problem, but I’m pretty sure it’s nothing you can help with.”

Charlie leaned down. “Don’t be so sure of that, lovely. Big brother Bill here knows a bit about this kind of bonding magic, it turns out.” 

Bill raised his eyebrows at Fred. “You have to learn about all sorts of things in my line of work.”

Fred met his brother’s eyes. “We’re not sure what we’re going to do. Not to put too fine a point on it, but we can’t keep our hands off each other. We knew the marriage would increase our desire, but we didn’t realise it might get in the way of us having conversations with everybody. All I want to do is apparate Hermione away and complete our bond. But we don’t want to miss out on our wedding day.”

Bill chuckled. “There is a solution, little brother, don’t worry.”

“What is it?” asked Hermione, still holding tightly onto Fred, now stroking his chest with the fingers of one hand while she cupped his hip with the other. 

Charlie smiled. “Just a basic home remedy; nothing that will interfere with your bonding later...” 

“Indeed,” said Bill. “This is an ancient kind of bonding, as you know, and you need to get physical before sunrise to complete it, but the idea isn’t to torture you or take you away from your family. Somehow – and I don’t know exactly how it works, love, sorry,” he grinned down at Hermione, who was poised to ask for more information, “any degree of hunger or thirst increases the pull of the bond, and I don’t imagine either of you ate a proper lunch?”

They both shook their heads, and Bill continued. “We just need to get you apart long enough to get a bit of food and drink into you both, then. And this won’t just be today, by the way. It’ll get easier once you’ve completed the bond, but you might want to carry some chocolate or nuts in your robes for the next few weeks, just in case you feel overwhelmed at an inopportune time.”

“Brilliant,” said Hermione. “I have the perfect excuse for two trips to Honeydukes in a week!”

Fred rubbed more circles on her lower back, still keeping her close to his body. “So if we can make it to the barbeque, that’ll help?”

“Barbeque and bar, that’s where we’re all going. Fred, you and I should head for the meat.” Fred laughed as Bill emphasised the final word. Ever since the Greyback incident, Bill had always been first in line at the barbeque, generally hoiking meat off the coals after only a minute or two of cooking. “It’ll be more effective if we separate you for a bit, so Charlie’s going to take Hermione to the bar first and then we’ll swap places; he’ll feed up ‘Mione here and I’ll get a beer in you. Once the two of you have had a good lunch and a drink or two, the pull won’t be as strong, even when you’re standing close.”

Charlie offered his arm to Hermione. “Shall we, my lady ‘Mione?”

Hermione smiled, but didn’t look convinced. Neither did she let go of Fred. “I can see the theory, but I’m not sure. I really don’t want to be apart from him.”

Charlie looked at Bill. “Plan B?”

Bill nodded. “I think so, and we’ve already established that you’re her favourite of us two.” He grinned at Hermione. “Sorry, love, but I’m going to take the chance that you’ll thank us later, when you have a nice day to look back on.” He leaned in and winked as he spoke in a low voice, “and Fred’ll be all yours all night…”

Bill slipped his arm around Fred’s shoulders, ready to gently but firmly steer him away from Hermione as soon as Charlie swung her up into his arms and strode away in the other direction across The Burrow’s garden towards the bar. Hermione was too surprised to protest. She looked back over Charlie’s shoulder at Fred, who looked slightly concerned, but Bill turned his brother around and walked him towards the patio, where Percy and Ron were manning a muggle barbeque. Beside them was a long table filled with salads, cheeses, all manner of breads and at least ten different side dishes.

“Now you can see how Percy and I spent yesterday afternoon,” Bill murmured in a low voice. “I promise you’ll feel better in two ticks, little brother.” He ignored the queue, strode around to the side of the cooking area and caught Percy’s eye. Percy, who had clearly already been briefed on the problem beforehand, reached under the grill and pulled out a plate on which he had already prepared a large roll filled with cheese and salad. Deftly, he added a juicy, sizzling burger to the roll and handed it to Fred.

“Here you are,” he said. “Enjoy, Fred. Bill’s confident it will help.”

Fred nodded in thanks and did as he was told. The burger was thick and tasty and he began to feel better almost immediately. “That’s crazy,” he said to his brothers after he had eaten half of his food. “But I definitely feel better. I seriously thought we were going to have to apparate out. Or nip behind dad’s shed for twenty minutes.”

Ron snorted and Percy smiled wryly. “That would have been unwise. You know that some sort of light is usually released the moment a bond like that is fully sealed? We would all have seen, and I’m not sure your wife would have appreciated that.”

“Shit, no,” Fred shook his head. “Gods, there’s so much I don’t know about this bonding. We didn’t have time to look into it beforehand. I wonder what else we’re going to encounter?”

“Let’s not worry about that now,” Bill told him. “Look, Charlie and Hermione have got drinks and are heading over here. I told him to circle round and stay a few yards away from us til we had filled you both up. We’ll loop round the other way and go see what your other other half has to offer in the way of beer.”

Fred laughed. “Yeah, I guess I have two other halves now. Lucky me.”

Thirty seconds later, upon her arrival at the barbeque with a glass of wine in hand, Hermione was immediately awarded a seasoned chicken and vegetable skewer by Percy, who urged her to eat it quickly even as she chose more food for a plate that Ron held for her. She was touched that they had known between them what her favourite type of barbeque meat was, but Percy brushed away her compliments, remarking that it was an inevitable consequence of being one of the quieter family members and spending most of your time at mealtimes observing others.

Hermione and Charlie stepped out of the way so that others could get food and began to walk towards where Molly and Arthur sat. “You and Bill were right,” she told her brother-in-law, tugging on his robes to stop him briefly so that they could have a private chat before they joined the others to sit and finish their food. “If feels much better now that we have some physical distance between us and I’ve had a bit of food.” He laughed at that. “What a rush, though! Can I tell you something just for your ears, Charlie, not for sharing?” Charlie nodded and held his hand over his heart in a promise. “I’ve wanted Fred since I was really quite young, but the pull to be with him physically now that we’re bonded … it’s like nothing else I’ve ever felt.”

“And you know that’s gonna last for a while?” grinned Charlie, raising his eyebrows.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, I did know that bit. That’s why we said to everybody when we were planning the wedding yesterday that they might need to send us away from family dinners for a few weeks!”

Charlie smiled again. “You’ll learn to manage it between the two of you. After tonight, you’ll be connected in other ways, and the pull will feel different, I believe. Bill was telling me about it before.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice even more. “The fact that you and Fred haven’t shagged each other before is likely to make it even stronger. Your first time should be pretty explosive, you lucky little witch.” Charlie widened his eyes to emphasise his point and Hermione pushed his chest gently in response. The muscular wizard didn’t budge. “OK, OK, lovely! But at least now you know there’s a solution. Either snack before you come out, or we need to tell mum to be ready to hand you a starter when you arrive at The Burrow for dinner!”

Over at the bar, three tall redheaded brothers stood with beers in their hands. “You’re right,” Fred told Bill. “The alcohol damps it down even more. I still want her like crazy, but at least I can think of other things as well now.”

“I’ll make sure I keep you well supplied through the evening then,” George grinned at his twin. “I must say though, I can’t decide whether I’m jealous or whether this is good reason to have a more modern wedding. I’m going to keep a close eye on you two over the next few weeks so I can make up my mind!” 

Bill laughed. “Let’s wait and see how he copes with the first dance!”

“Oh fuck,” Fred groaned. He had forgotten that particular tradition. 

“Don’t worry, Freddie,” George reassured him. "Percy’s going to make sure to fill you full of Penelope’s cake first!”


	6. Fred and Hermione's wedding dance

As the afternoon continued, there was much congratulating of the newly married couple. Perhaps inevitably, many people expressed some surprise at the speed of Fred and Hermione’s marriage, and the pair soon learned that the most effective response to this was to gaze at each other and say that the war had sharpened their perspective and they just hadn’t wanted to wait any longer. This generally resulted in a bit of cooing and allowed them to move on to answer questions about whether they would be having a honeymoon (yes; just a few days at a secret location), what they planned to do when back (not sure yet, but we’ll work it out together) and whether they were planning babies (give us time and we’ll see).

Once everyone had had their fill of the barbeque, Penelope levitated the wedding cake from the kitchen and Hermione and Fred were called to come and cut it. George and Ginny took the opportunity to make impromptu speeches as Charlie used his wand to levitate a glass of champagne to each guest so that Molly and Arthur could lead a toast to the newlyweds. 

Fred and Hermione stood to thank everyone for joining them before they cut into the cake and Hermione delightedly discovered that Fred had requested chocolate fudge. She rolled her eyes back at the exquisite taste and Penelope was delighted to see how much the couple were enjoying her efforts. They fed each other cake and champagne before kissing again. This time it was George who decided that they needed some time apart, telling Hermione that he was commandeering his brother for a bit. He barely waited for an answer before marching Fred away.

Hermione realised that she needed a break from socialising and was happy to find Percy and Penelope sitting on a bench in a corner of the garden. They invited her to join them for a quiet half hour in which she didn’t have to make small talk and, by the time she heard George’s voice booming across the lawn with the help of a sonorous charm, she was well rested and ready to mingle again.

“Beloved witches and wizards, please start making your way over to our dance floor; the bride and groom will be having their first dance in just a few minutes time. On which note,” he slowed his words down for emphasis before adopting a more official voice, “paging Hermione Granger-Weasley … Hermione Granger Weasley please report to her husband-in-law immediately.”

A few laughs broke out around the garden and several people turned their heads to look for Hermione.

“No rest for the wicked or the newly bonded, then,” smiled Percy, offering his hand to help her up.

“It appears not!” Hermione laughed, pulling her shoes back on.

“Enjoy…” said Penelope, and Hermione gave her a big smile before setting off towards George, who she could see standing at the edge of the area that had been designated for dancing. One whole side was lined by trees, offering some shelter from the wind. That wasn’t necessary today though; the sun had stayed out although, happily, the extreme heat of the previous couple of weeks had dissipated a little.

“My lady ‘Mione,” George bowed and offered his hand, which she took. Slightly suspicious of the way he was using Charlie’s nickname for her, she looked around for Fred.

“Where’s my husband?” she asked George.

“I’ll take you to him in two ticks … promise. First, though, I just have to do this. Please.” He produced a scarf from his pocket, indicating that he wanted to blindfold her with it and arranging his face to display the patented Weasley twin puppy dog eyes in the hope of persuading her to go along with his request.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, George?”

“Once someone has seen the way to our secret place, that person cannot leave. So this is for your freedom, really. Also, Charlie thought it would be cool.”

“Right, well if Charlie thought it would be cool…” she rolled her eyes and wondered why his words sounded so familiar but laughingly allowed George to tie the scarf around her face anyway. He and Charlie hadn’t done wrong by her in the past day or so, so she didn’t imagine they would start now. 

“OK, hang on,” George said, as his arms enveloped her. He lifted her a few inches off the ground just before they apparated, for which Hermione was grateful. It meant that she didn’t risk losing her footing in the long dress when he landed them on a very uneven wooden floor. After a moment, George gently set her down, ensuring that she was upright and stable before letting her go and removing the blindfold.

Standing in front of her was Fred, and she looked around to realise that they were in the Weasley kids’ treehouse, which was somewhat more impressive than the two muggle treehouses that she played in as a child. It stood about forty feet high, contained two rooms and had a balcony which looked down over the dance area.

“Please be OK with this, love,” Fred took her hand, pulling her to him for a long kiss, which she returned hungrily. He broke away, reluctantly, to explain. “This is apparently the first part of our wedding present from George and Charlie.”

“A chance to sneak away for a snog in a treehouse?”

“Mmmmm, that sounds like an even better plan than theirs…” he slanted his lips over Hermione’s again and tilted his head to give her a deeper kiss. 

“Oi, none of that,” said George, pointing something out to Charlie, who nodded. “All working,” he told his brother.

“Righty-ho,” Charlie replied, tapping gently on Hermione’s shoulder. “Hey lovely, can we have your attention, or do we need to get more cake into you first?”

“I’m paying attention, but what is that?” Hermione asked, still holding onto Fred but now looking in the direction where George was pointing. It looked like a piece of used bubblegum was stuck to the wall with a couple of strings of goo trailing from it. 

“Extendable ears. Two-way,” said George, as if the answer was obvious.

“Oh,” Hermione didn’t really know what else she could add to that. 

Charlie leaned forward. “We figure once everyone sees you and Fred do it, they’re all going to want a go, so we need one of us down there and one up here and a way to communicate. Genius, these things.”

“So they are,” she agreed, still wondering what was going on. She was about to ask what everyone was going to see her and Fred do when she saw Charlie pull a complicated-looking rope contraption towards them. Fred grinned broadly, Hermione suddenly remembered where she had heard George’s earlier line before, and it all became clear. 

“Oh no,” she laughed, realisation dawning. “You haven’t?!”

“We have,” they said together, proudly. 

“Is it safe?”

“As houses,” said Charlie. “You'll be going down on dragon-strength rope,” he tugged at it to demonstrate how securely it was attached to the tree, “and we have it loaded with speed-limiting charms.”

“Plus I’ll be on the ground in case we need a cushioning charm,” beamed George. “But we won’t,” he added quickly.

“Apparently they tested it out several times with Bill and Fleur when we were on our date last night, so they know it works.” Fred was still grinning.

Hermione was shaking her head and laughing. “And if I say no?”

“You won’t,” said Fred. “You love that Robin Hood film, you picked the Bryan Adams song and we all know now that you’re not nearly as serious as you used to want us to think you were.”

She squeezed his hand and winked in reply.

“Don’t,” he said, leaning towards her so that his brothers couldn’t hear. “You know how hard it makes me when you do that, and we’ve still got a few hours of party before I can take you away…”

Hermione just smiled. She was so looking forward to the end of the evening.

“Look, pretty much everyone’s here,” George reported from the window, causing the others to look out. Their friends and family were indeed gathering around the edges of the dance floor. Molly was busily looking for Hermione and had also begun to realise that she had mislaid half of her sons.

“We’d better hurry up before she goes back inside to look at the clock to find out where we all are,” Charlie said.

“I’ll go and get into position and get Lee’s attention.” George saluted Hermione and Fred and his brother returned the gesture before George apparated away. 

“OK then, let’s do it, before I change my mind.” Hermione took Fred’s hand and stepped forward. “What do I do?”

“Step out onto the balcony with me,” said Charlie, “and put your feet on these.”

Obediently, Fred and Hermione placed their feet onto the knots of rope that Charlie showed them and allowed him to wrap more loops around Fred’s right wrist and Hermione’s left. Fred put his free arm around Hermione’s waist, hitching her body close to his, and she put hers around his back, grabbing a handful of his shirt. Charlie leaned towards the extendable ear. “Cue Lee in ten seconds,” he told George.

“Roger that,” George’s voice sounded slightly muffled through the ear speaker, but the thumbs up he was giving them from the ground made his intention clear. Fred and Hermione saw him wave to Lee, who was manning the sound system, and Lee gave him the thumbs up sign. “Witches and wizards,” George said again, loudly. “Please welcome Mr and Mrs Granger-Weasley to the dance floor.” 

As the first bars of the piano introduction sounded through Lee’s speakers, Charlie simply extended his wand. The rope tightened to take Fred and Hermione’s full weight as the edge of the balcony slid away from under their feet. Once they had settled and felt secure, Charlie lifted his wand to begin their descent. 

Below and just a few yards away, the assembled wizarding folk began to look around, somewhat confused by the apparent absence of the happy couple at their own first dance, until Bill nudged Ginny and pointed up into the trees. Her squeal alerted everyone else, and a chorus of ‘oooos’ and ‘aaaaah’s broke out as more people began to spot Hermione and Fred. They hung from the rope, Fred’s right arm extended upwards while his left arm was wrapped around Hermione. Molly gasped, and her hands flew to her mouth. It was the most romantic thing she had ever seen. Arthur hugged her tightly to his side.

By the time Bryan Adams’ voice began to sing over the speakers, Fred and Hermione had both relaxed. Looking into each other’s’ eyes, they enjoyed the music and allowed George and Charlie to control their slow descent from the treehouse to the dance floor, rotating them gently as they were lowered. Later, they had no memory of the way in which cheering had broken out amongst their family and guests when they landed and were immensely grateful that Lee had recorded the whole thing on several different cameras.

Once their feet were firmly back on the earth, Fred and George quickly removed the ropes and helped ensure that Hermione’s dress wasn’t tangled before Fred led her onto the dance floor proper and they smoothly continued their slow dance, to the ongoing delight of the crowd. Fred leaned closer and sang the softly into Hermione’s ear, “would fight for you … would lie for you … walk the wire for you … yeah, I’d die for you… you know it’s true …. everything I do …. I do it for you…” She was openly weeping now, unable to hold her emotions in any longer. 

“I love you, Fred Granger-Weasley,” she murmured into his ear. “I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been happier than in this moment.”

A few yards away, Bill whispered to Ginny and then took her by the hand, apparating her across to the bottom of the tree house, where he then handed her to George and took the younger twin’s position so that George could apparate Ginny up to the balcony and then descend with her in the same fashion, joining Fred and Hermione on the dance floor. 

Bill caught his father’s eye, raised his eyebrows and held out a hand in invitation. Arthur gleefully took Molly by the hand and walked over to his eldest son while his wife shook her head, laughing. She still allowed her husband and sons to send her up, fit her into the ropes and give her and Arthur their own romantic experience, much to Fred and Hermione’s delight. After that, almost everyone took a turn, and quite a few people – notably George and Ginny – went back several times.

A while later, it was Hermione who noticed that one wizard hadn’t yet ridden down the rope with a partner, and she whispered to Fred, “come with me.” Explaining to him quickly on their way, she apparated them to the top of the treehouse, which was currently empty but for Charlie.

Hermione held out her hand to her brother-in-law. “Charlie, may I have this dance?” She leaned in closer. “I know why you’re not down there chatting anyone up, but you deserve a romantic moment just like everyone else … may I stand in, just this once?”

“Love to,” he grinned, taking her hand, as Fred held the ropes and readied his wand. They were lowered together, and Charlie rested his head on Hermione’s shoulder as they enjoyed the slow descent and a dance. After a minute or so, she heard him chuckle softly, and lifted her head to try to see what was happening. He danced her around so that they could both watch. George had requisitioned Bill and Fleur to control the ride while he apparated up to the treehouse and collected his brother. George and Fred were now descending together, cheek-to-cheek. When they reached the dance floor, however, they couldn’t seem to agree on who was going to lead, and so a small wrestling match ensued until Fleur and Minerva stepped in and solved the problem by each taking a brother’s hand and towing them out onto the dance floor. 

It was another half an hour until Fred and Hermione were back in each other’s arms. Their feet were tired, they truly felt that they had danced with everyone between them and they were about ready for a sit down. Fred looked up at the now quiet treehouse. “That was a great addition to the festivities, don’t you think?” Fred asked his wife.

“It was brilliant,” Hermione replied. “But I really need to sit down again for a bit now!”


	7. Into the evening...

Fred took Hermione’s hand and led her to a circle of sofas that she hadn’t noticed earlier. There had always been a firepit at The Burrow, and the Weasleys had enjoyed many bonfires around it. But someone – or more likely a few someones – had transfigured the circle of logs which usually surrounded it into soft seats. Fred selected a low green sofa, pulling Hermione onto his lap. They cuddled for a few minutes, her head nestled into his shoulder. Now that they had had a few hours to get used to their new bond, they were slightly more able to manage the pull that they felt towards each other, but they were both still full of desire. 

Hermione nuzzled into Fred’s neck, kissing and licking his skin and his fingers wandered to the neckline of her dress.

“Hey, mister…” she spoke softly. “We’re not alone yet, you know.”

“I know, love,” he whispered back, not stopping the movement of his long fingers, which were now sweeping inside her dress. “I just remembered the stars from earlier, and wondered how far down they had gone…”

She captured his hand in hers, holding it still. “Actually, I may have fished a few out when I went to the loo and put them in my bag for my wedding memory box. But there may still be one or two for you to find later…”

He leaned in for a kiss, tipping his head to one side and savouring her lips as he wound his hand around Hermione’s waist. She moaned softly.

“Hey now, lovebirds.” George’s voice was unmistakeable and the pair looked up to see that he and Charlie had bounded over and were arranging themselves on the arms of the sofa, one either side of Fred and Hermione.

“We have another present for you,” George told Hermione.

“Oh wow, guys,” she said. “I’m not fully recovered from your first present yet. I’m having some chill time with Fred.” 

“S’OK, lovely.” That was Charlie. “You can stay sitting down for this bit.”

George glanced across at him. Charlie winked. Hermione looked between the two, feeling unsure about what was coming next.

“So, you’re still wearing Angelina’s present, yes?” Charlie’s hand moved towards Hermione’s thigh, as if to check for the presence of the lacy garter that her old friend had given her as her ‘something blue’. 

Hermione gently pushed his hand away, laughing. “I think that’s for me to know and for Fred to find out later, don’t you?” 

“That’s a yes then,” George said, looking at Charlie and clapping his hands together in glee.

“Oh,” said Fred, having just in that moment realised what it was that he had felt earlier on. His eyes were wide and his hand wandered across Hermione’s lap to feel for the lacy garment again. She didn’t push him away, but held his hand firmly in place, not wanting him to further increase her desire by playing with her thigh.

Charlie continued. “And you know what the wedding reception tradition is with that, right?”

“Tradition?” Fred asked, a bit confused, as Hermione’s mouth opened slightly. She swallowed.

“Yes,” said his twin. “Ange told us all about it. It’s a muggle thing, so we thought Hermione might appreciate it.”

“Really,” said Hermione, “there’s no need. It’s a lovely gift, but I don’t want to make a spectacle –” 

“You won’t be a spectacle,” reassured George, interrupting her. “We’ll just sit you on a chair…”

“With your legs slightly apart,” added Charlie.

“Dress covering them, of course. Dignity at all times. At least for you…”

“Yes, of course.” Charlie looked at George as if he had made a scandalous suggestion. “We’re not bothered about Freddie’s dignity though. We’ll bind his hands behind his back. Just temporarily...” Charlie winked. “I know you’ll need them tonight.”

Fred was shaking his head and beginning to laugh.

“We send him crawling up your dress…” he continued.

“I know this bit, Charlie,” said Hermione. “It’s a muggle tradition, remember? Fred removes my garter using just his mouth and emerges from underneath my dress holding it in his teeth, like a prize, to rapturous applause from the audience that you have gathered to watch us embarrass ourselves.”

“Exactly.”

George tipped his head to one side. “How does that sound?”

“Bloody torturous,” replied Fred. “You do know we’re having trouble keeping our hands off each other? What do you think that’s going to do to us? Putting me that close to Hermione’s… Do you WANT this wedding to become X-rated?”

Charlie grinned. “That’s why the second bit of mine and George’s present is that we’re _not_ going to make you do that here. In recognition of the pull of the bond that you’ve taken to save our lovely Lady ‘Mione.” He lifted and then kissed her fingers. “But we thought it important to let you know what a sacrifice we’re making.”

“Because it would have been excellent entertainment!” George’s grin was wide.

Hermione was immensely relieved. “I am sure it would, but I am very happy you’re not going to put us through that, thank you boys.” 

The grin left George’s face and he leaned towards her. “God, I love it when you do the prefect voice.”

“Me too,” Charlie agreed with a wink at his brother. “You lucky bastard, Fred.”

“Charles Weasley, you are not too old to go over my knee for language!” Charlie winced as he heard his mother’s voice behind them. 

“Mum!” exclaimed Hermione. “What perfect timing you have!”

When they realised that Molly and Arthur had come over for a chat, George and Charlie took themselves back to the bar, where Bill was waiting for them.

“We just wanted to spend a few minutes with you,” said Molly, patting Hermione’s hand. “And tell you how proud we are of you both.”

Arthur reached forward to grasp his son’s shoulder. “Fred, I know it turned out you loved Hermione anyway, but I couldn’t be prouder of the way you’ve stepped up to save her from this blasted threatened marriage law. I’m so happy to call you my son.”

Hermione looked at him with so much love in her eyes, and Arthur reached out with his other hand to take hers.

“Hermione,” continued Molly, sitting down on the arm of the sofa that Charlie had recently vacated. “What you’ve done for our world … we couldn’t be prouder of you either, and we want you both to know that we want to do whatever we can to help. This has all been rather sudden, and it might be harder than you think to adjust, so if you need anything –” 

“Anything at all,” Arthur added.

“A freezer full of meals, a bit of advice,”

“Some space from the madness,” Arthur winked at Hermione, who winked back. Fred and Molly exchanged amused glances which they hoped Arthur wouldn’t notice. 

“Anything at all, you just let us know. And Hermione, could I talk to you alone for a tick?” That was Molly, and Hermione slipped off Fred’s lap, allowing her mother-in-law to lead her to the edge of the orchard.

“Dear, don’t be embarrassed please, but I’ve popped a parcel in the bag that Ginny has packed for you. She doesn’t know it’s there and it’s all wrapped up to look like I’ve sent you some cakes.” Hermione nodded, though she didn’t understand at all.

Molly patted her arm. “I don’t want to make any assumptions, and I’m not asking to know anything that isn’t my business, dear, but your own mum isn’t around, so somebody needs to take care of you. 

The parcel contains a potion that will stop you getting pregnant if you’re not ready to start a family just yet.” She held her palms up. “I don’t need to know if you already know this or have it covered or not; just throw it out if you don’t need it, but I can’t have you going unprepared.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Molly was in full flow and there was no chance to interrupt.

“You can’t take it tonight; it would interfere with the bond, but you can start taking it in the morning if you want. A dropper full a day, best if you take it upon waking. Tastes like dirt, so chase it with some pumpkin juice. There’s enough for three months and I’ve included the recipe. But come over to The Burrow anytime and I’ll teach you to make it or to do a contraception spell or anything else you need.”

“Oh Molly … Mum, I hadn’t even thought of that!” Hermione reached for the older woman. “Thank you so much.”

“That’s what mums are for, sweetheart.” Molly hugged her tightly and kissed Hermione’s cheek. “Now, is there anything I can help you with before tonight? Anything you are worried about, or need to know?”

Hermione wondered for a second whether to tell Molly that she had already received some grade A sex advice from her second eldest son, but thought better of it. 

“Honestly, I don’t know.” She lifted her eyes to the sky and thought for a bit before shaking her head. “Not that I can think of at the moment. But I really appreciate knowing you’re there if there is.”

Molly hugged her again. “Well you know where I am.” Molly patted her. “And don’t forget, it’s in the bag!” She took Hermione’s hand in hers and led her back to Fred.

“Now you be good to her, Frederick Gideon,” she told him as she pulled her tall son up off the sofa and into a hug. “I’ve wanted this lovely woman as a daughter-in-law for years now, and I’m so happy for you that you’re the one she loves. So I trust you’ll take very good care of her, or you’ll have me to contend with, never mind Harry and Ron,” she warned him with a wink.

Fred nodded as he reached around and pulled Hermione to his side. “Course I will, mum. She’ll have a lifetime’s supply of wicked wheezes.”

“Indeed; to inflict upon you if you should displease me,” Hermione retorted.

Fred grinned. “That sounds like the kind of challenge I enjoy!”

“Just you wait,” Hermione winked at him.

Molly looked at Arthur, who laughed and shook his head as he looked from one to the other. “Your kids…” she said. “I know you’ll probably make me wait a few years before you start a family, but I can’t wait to see how the combination of your genes turns out one day!” 

Molly kissed and patted them both once more before leaving the little gathering to greet Ginny, who was heading towards them with Harry and Ron. Under his breath, Arthur said, “I give her six months before she starts dropping serious hints about grandchildren, so enjoy it while it lasts.” He moved as if to leave and then hesitated before leaning in again. “You might get a few weeks’ respite if Bill and Fleur get on with it, but my money says that’ll speed her up, not slow her down.” 

Fred laughed softly. “Let me know when you open that book and I’ll be in on the action.”

“I will, son,” Arthur chuckled, as more of his family headed their way. “Hey up,” he said. “All the troops are arriving now. What’s next then?”

“It’s chill out time,” said Ron. 

Harry stepped up as well. “We wanted to make sure that Fred and Hermione could get going before it got dark and be at the beach for the sunset, so we’re moving their finale up with the help of Charlie’s weather spells. We’ll take it down after so we can watch the sunset here after you go…” 

“Weather spells?” Hermione looked impressed. She saw that Charlie had moved some distance away from the circle and was making wide sweeps around the sky with his wand.

“Yeah, that was news to me as well,” said Bill. “Apparently they occasionally need to get dragons to their nests earlier in the summer, so they’ve perfected the art of slowly darkening the sky with magic.”

George arrived. “Which is just what we need for –” 

“Fireworks!” finished Fred.

Within minutes, everyone had assembled comfortably on the sofas. A large bonfire had been set in the middle of the circle and Hermione snuggled into Fred as they watched the sky over The Burrow temporarily darken under Charlie’s wand. Arthur pointed his own wand at the bonfire and flames licked around the wood.

“Look, Hermione,” teased Ron, pointing to the bonfire and reminding her of the day that she had forgotten that she could create fire with magic. She laughed softly before resting her head back on Fred’s shoulder as they both laid back on the sofa to gaze at the sky.

“What an amazing day this has been,” Hermione whispered. “I wouldn’t have had a better time if we had spent months planning this.”

“I’ll wager we wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun if we had had to endure all the planning!”

She laughed. “Probably!”

Hermione felt a weight settle on her other side and discovered that Charlie had decided to squeeze into their sofa as well. “Do you mind?” he asked Fred. “I’m going back to Romania in the morning, so I won’t be here when you get back, which makes this my last chance to cuddle my lady ‘Mione before you take her off and make her a woman…”

Fred snorted, keeping Hermione snuggled into his side. “I’ve waited years to cuddle her under the fireworks, Charlie, so I’m buggered if I’m handing her over to you, but maybe she’ll let you have a finger or toe to hold…”

Hermione laughed, reaching out a hand which Charlie took into his lap, holding it in both of his. She squeezed, wanting to thank him for all the ways in which he had supported her throughout the past couple of days, and he understood.

“I’ll be back again in few weeks,” he told her. “I’ve got some leave I need to use up before the end of the year and my boss says I need to get on with taking it. But will you owl me in the meantime and let me know how the honeymoon goes?”

“Absolutely,” she whispered back. “And I haven’t forgotten that I’m going to do a bit of research for you when I get back either.”

Charlie nodded. He wasn’t sure what to say to that, and he definitely didn’t want to get his hopes up, so he just squeezed her hand again and looked up into the sky, where the first sparks were beginning to appear.

The firework display was testament to how much fun George and Fred had had at their impromptu stag do. It wasn’t the most sophisticated set ever, but it was full of fun and a few surprises. There were heart-shaped explosions, huge star-filled rockets, a pack of running weasels and a dancing otter for Hermione. Lee played more music as a backdrop and the finale involved a series of giant orange and magenta letters depicting Hermione and Fred’s initials soaring into the sky and then merging together at the end. Even Fred seemed surprised, and Hermione realised that George must have added that part himself sometime during the day after he realised what they had chosen to do with their names.

As the letters finally exploded into a multitude of more multi-coloured stars, Fred tightened his hold on his bride. “Are you ready?” he whispered into her ear. Hermione nodded. “Right then, love” he murmured into her ear, caressing the ridge of her garter with his finger. “Let’s go and seal that bond…”

Hermione leaned over to give Charlie a hug and then she and Fred stood together and thanked everyone for making their day so memorable. They promised to make dates to catch up with everyone after their honeymoon, letting their friends know that Hermione would, upon their return, be moving into the flat above 93 Diagon Alley. Their guests formed a line to hug each of them as they left, but no-one tried to make them linger; they all realised that the newlyweds needed time to themselves.

As the couple reached the Weasley and Potter contingent at the end of the line, almost everyone seemed to be putting something into their hands. George had a rucksack for Fred and Ginny handed Hermione her beaded bag. Molly gave a package of cake to Fred (presumably in case of hunger on the journey) and whispered a reminder to Hermione that there was one for her in the bag. Charlie tucked a further bottle of champagne into Hermione’s beaded bag. “Just in case,” he winked. Last, Ron was holding Fred’s broom, and he helped Hermione to mount it – sidesaddle, given her wedding dress – before giving her an enormous hug. Fred jumped on behind her and took off into the sky, bride safely secured in his arms.

“It’s a Weasley tradition for the newly married couple to leave their wedding reception and head for their honeymoon by broom,” Molly explained to Neville. “Though I imagine Fred will land them on the hill and apparate from there.” She leaned in, as if to speak confidentially. “I don’t think either of them can stand the sexual tension much longer.”

If Neville was surprised to hear this comment coming from the Weasley matriarch’s mouth, he did a valiant job of not showing it. Ginny gave him a grin, making drinking motions with her hand so that Neville had to suppress his laughter by turning and making a beeline for the bar, followed by a laughing Ginny.

Drunk or not, Molly had been spot on in her prediction. “We’ll just fly to the hill, love,” Fred told Hermione as they lifted from the garden. “There’s nothing in the Weasley wedding rulebook that says we have to fly all the way. That’ll waste valuable snogging time.”

Four and a half minutes later, he set them down gently on the grass and divided all of the bags and his broom between his hands, laughing at himself for almost not being able to juggle them all. “I would apparate you there bridal-style,” he told Hermione, “but it’s you or the luggage, and I want both!”

She laughed, and instead wound her arms tightly around his waist. “I’ll hold on, Fred … you lead.”

“Well that’s a phrase I didn’t imagine hearing very often from you, Ms Granger-Weasley!”

The sound of Hermione’s laugh disappeared into the crack of their apparition. 

Knowing that the cove would look very different from when they had visited before and uncertain where things would be, Fred landed them on top of the cliff. He turned Hermione around so that she could see, and she gasped. The cove that had been empty last night was now a beautiful honeymoon resort. At the centre was a large circular structure. It appeared to be made of wood, but Hermione realised that it was open to the elements and they would be able to see the sea and the stars.

“It’s covered in charms instead of fabric, so it will keep us cosy and protect us from any wind or rain, but still let us see out. Isn’t it amazing? It’s called a yurt.” Fred told her.

Hermione opened her mouth but no sound came out. Not only was the yurt amazing, but the whole cove had been transformed. The yurt was at the centre of a series of wooden cabins linked by curved wooden paths, and the area was brimming with brightly coloured decorations and fairy lights. It was truly magical in every sense of the word. She could see the most enormous bed in the centre of the yurt, surrounded by soft rugs. To the left was a log burner and chimney, although she couldn’t imagine needing to build a fire at this time of year. There wasn’t much other furniture in the yurt itself, but she spotted a few low tables, floor cushions and chests of drawers for their things. 

Every direction in which she looked offered something new and tempting. A large open-air hot tub was a short distance away, on a raised platform, and attached to the back of the yurt was a small cabin which she imagined was the bathroom. A canvas-covered structure to her left looked like a field kitchen which even at first glance she could see contained everything they would need to cook and eat out, including a large barbeque grill and a wooden table with benches. “We’ve got the restaurant, of course,” said Fred. “That’s just so we have the option of cooking for ourselves if we want it. And I can grill you sausages in the mornings to replenish your strength after I’ve ravished you all night.”

A thrill went through Hermione’s body upon hearing his words and she wanted to turn towards Fred, but he kept her facing away from him so that he could point out another bed near to the sea, with a soft fabric covering, which she imagined was to rest on during the day while they gazed out at the ocean. Fred then pointed out the wooden chest beside it, explaining with a grin that it was a magical cooler designed to conjure any cold drinks they might like from the restaurant upon request. The cove had gone from being an empty paradise to being filled with everything they could possibly need for a few days of relaxation at the beach.

“This is amazing,” she said, not quite able to believe what she was seeing.

“Absolutely,” Fred agreed. But he wasn’t looking at the cove anymore. “You ready to go down now, love?”

Hermione nodded and allowed Fred to lift her onto the broom in front of him one last time so that they could fly into their little beach sanctuary. He had already used his wand to levitate their luggage down to the bedroom area while Hermione was looking at their new home, so he was able to put both of his arms around Hermione and hold her close as he flew them in a slow spiral down to the cove. 

“Where first, love?” he asked, as they approached the ground. “Do you need anything? Drink? Tour? Bathroom?”

Hermione turned and looked deeply into his eyes. “Just you, Fred. Clichéd as that sounds, I just want you.” She turned sideways on the broom and wrapped her arms around his neck as he negotiated the final few feet to the ground. He silently thanked his years of quidditch playing; his senses were so full of his desire for Hermione that he was truly flying on auto-pilot.

Fred landed them on the path that led to the bedroom and ensured that Hermione was steady on her feet before moving his broom from under them and leaning it against the side of the yurt. Taking Hermione’s hand, he led her towards the bed...


	8. The wedding night

“This is beautiful,” said Hermione, stroking the velvety-soft Egyptian cotton duvet cover that was on their bed. Fred came to stand behind her and leaned down to kiss the place where her neck met her right shoulder.

“Mmmmmm,” he agreed, before reaching in front of her and making a show of folding the top of the duvet down towards the bottom of the bed, exposing the sheet below. He began to unbutton Hermione’s wedding dress, keeping his lips busy by teasing the back her neck and carefully kissing and licking each inch of her spine as he uncovered it. “Don’t worry, love,” he reassured her. “I’m going to be very slow and gentle and make sure this is good for you. Just relax, and let me love you…”

As Fred spoke, Hermione exhaled slowly, and she gazed at the sea as she murmured soft words of love back to him. The sun was just beginning to set, the waves rippled onto the shoreline and the scent of a gentle, salty sea breeze drifted across the beach. Hermione sighed as each of her senses were stimulated and briefly turned her head back towards Fred’s to kiss his full lips which were already slightly swollen from their kisses. He kissed her deeply, allowing his hands to wander down her front and gently stroking the sides of her breasts with his fingertips before tracing a line between them and down towards her bellybutton. He slipped the fingers of one hand slowly down the top of her dress and, for a moment, Hermione was confused as he wriggled them gently around as if looking for something. Then she remembered, and giggled.

“I’ve got one … no, two!” Fred exclaimed, gently working the stars out of her bra and showing Hermione the trophies held between the first two fingers of his left hand. Taking his wand from its holster with his other hand, he transfigured the stars into star-shaped lanterns, added a glowing purple light to them and sent them upwards where they floated over the bed. “We’ll take them home and keep them, as a reminder…”

“I thought you might have forgotten those!” Hermione whispered.

“Never … and I haven’t forgotten this either…” Fred slid his hand to Hermione’s thigh and fingered the garter through her dress. “I’m coming to get it, love…” Hermione felt a thrill in her pussy. Tenderly, Fred turned her away from him again, moved his mouth back to the nape of her neck and continued his descent on her buttons. “It just might take me a while … why on earth did Fleur need to add so many of these?” he asked, laughing softly at his own impatience.

Hermione smiled. “You know Bill was part of the dress team as well? Fleur has him hold clothes in flux while she transfigures things; it’s really quite something to see. We’re not allowed to tell your brothers, though!”

“That’s a shame,” Fred muttered into her ear before gently licking it, causing Hermione to shiver in anticipation. “George and Charlie would get years of pleasure out of that revelation! There … I could use magic, I know, but I’m rather enjoying unwrapping you, like a sexy little Christmas present.”

He reached and undid the final button. Slipping his fingers under the dress on the top of each of Hermione’s shoulders, Fred then spread his hands apart and Fleur’s dress fell slowly to the sandy floor. Hermione stepped out of it, carefully picked it up and shook off the sand. She waved her wand, whispering the modified banishing incantation that would send it safely back to Shell Cottage and then allowed Fred to lean over and take her wand, placing it beside his on the bedside table. Hermione rather liked seeing them there together.

Slowly, Fred turned her back around to face him and his eyes grew wide when he saw the silky underwear that Fleur had given her that morning. They grew wider again when he saw the garter that Angelina had sent up to the bedroom. Gently fingering the lace on Hermione’s thigh, he opened his mouth slightly, licking his lips as he began to move them towards Hermione’s left breast.

“Hey, not so fast, mister … you’re still fully dressed, so it’s my turn now.” Hermione grinned at him, helped ease the jacket of his dress robes from his shoulders and started on his belt buckle. Fred kicked and toed off his shoes and socks before allowing Hermione to unbutton and lower his trousers. She stroked his thighs before leaning in for another deep kiss. Reaching for the buttons of his shirt, she soon had him down to just his boxers and stood back to admire him, glad of the warm evening as he stepped out of his clothes and moved them away.

“You’re gorgeous, Fred. I can’t believe you’re mine.” Hermione ran her small hands over his chest and he placed his hands on her waist, stroking her slowly as her exploration began. She traced the outlines of his muscles and kissed the scars that the healers hadn’t been able to prevent from forming. Fred’s eyebrows furrowed in lust and Hermione teased both of his nipples with her thumbs before slowly dragging one of her hands down his tummy to play in the trail of dark red hair that led from his bellybutton into his shorts, which were straining against his erection. Gaining in confidence, she stroked his cock through his shorts with her thumb and fingertips and Fred’s breath caught. 

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide and a little worried as she bit her bottom lip. “I want you, Fred, and the bonding magic wants me to do more, but I’m feeling a bit out of my depth.”

Fred lifted Hermione into his arms and gently placed her upon the soft pillows, removing her shoes before crawling towards her on the bed and wrapping his arms around her. “Don’t worry, love, it’s only me. Everything’s going to be great.”

“Can I see you?”

“Yes, of course,” he said. “Just don’t be scared. I’ll be so gentle, love. I’ll make you feel so good…”

“I know,” she nodded, but she still felt a wave of shock when he knelt up and removed his shorts, lifting each of his knees in turn before throwing his underwear onto the wooden floor behind him. It looked so big, though Hermione didn’t really have anything to compare it to. Tentatively, she reached out towards him, and Fred groaned when she wrapped her hand around his length. 

“Oh gods, that feels good, love. Yes, like that.” She stroked gently, learning her way around the silken hardness of Fred’s cock as he knelt before her. She collected the bead of moisture oozing out of the tip on the pad of her thumb before spreading it around a bit, eliciting a hiss from Fred. Looking up at him with a shy smile, Hermione sat up, crawled down the bed and gave the head of his cock a very gentle kiss. Hearing his groan and feeling braver with each minute, she added a few small catlicks with her tongue. “Oh fuck,” Fred said again, and Hermione was encouraged to take his whole cock in both her hands and address it directly. 

“Hello there,” she said softly, the feel of her warm breath on the head of his cock making Fred close his eyes and tip his head back. He would be finding this hilarious and endearing in equal measure if only he wasn’t so fucking turned on by her touching and licking. The hunger of the bonding magic was becoming more powerful again and, as much as he would love to make the build-up last all night, he knew he wouldn’t last that long and that he needed to be inside his witch before he came. That was how the bonding would be completed. But he could restrain himself enough to give Hermione a few moments to meet the appendage that she was going to spend the rest of her life with. She was still chatting to his cock, and Fred realised that, if he didn’t pay attention, he could be missing out on some seriously hot talk. “I’m going to learn what you like,” she said. “We’re going to experiment with lots of things until I find out what makes Fred groan the most.” 

Fred groaned just at hearing that. “Come back up here, love. As much as I love what you’re doing, there are bits of you that I still need to meet.”

He encouraged Hermione to sit back up so he could take her into his arms and make quick work of her silky bra, discovering to their mutual delight that he could easily fit a breast into each of his large hands and keep his mouth free for kissing her lips and neck. That didn’t last long though, and Fred was soon tasting each of Hermione’s rosy nipples, causing her head to fall back and her hips to start moving against him. Without realising it, she had brought her pussy closer to his cock and straddled his lap, rubbing herself against him with only the silk of her flimsy knickers between them now.

Hermione could feel a steady, insistent pulsation of bonding magic in her core; she identified the centre of it as being the area that muggle therapists described as the sacral chakra, and dimly she wondered if anyone had made that connection. But she was losing the capacity for rational thought.

Shifting his weight to his knees and leaning Hermione back onto the plump pillows, Fred kissed his way down her tummy until his lips reached the top of her knickers. “Now,” he said, “I get to open my wedding present.” Hermione felt another thrill go through her at his words, and at the knowledge that Fred Weasley, the man she had wanted for so many years, was about to take her knickers off and fuck her. Kneeling upright, with his hard cock still very present between them, Fred hooked his fingers over the sides of Hermione’s knickers and slowly tugged them down her legs. 

“I’m leaving the garter on, lovely,” he informed her. “It’s really” … kiss … “very” … kiss … “sexy…” He leaned further forward and kissed the curls that he had uncovered. “Fuck, love, you’re so pretty, and you smell amazing. I love your scent.” 

Hermione’s hips bucked a little, out of her control, as his kisses grew longer.

“Sorry,” she giggled, blushing a little as she realised that she was thrusting up into Fred’s face.

“No need to be,” he said gruffly, using his hands to move her thighs further apart and stroking both of his thumbs over her mound while ruffling her hair with his fingers. “Come here, you gorgeous witch…” Now Fred used his thumbs to spread her outer lips, watching Hermione’s face for as long as he could while taking a long, slow lick of her pussy.

Hermione let out a long, low moan. The bonding magic was really taking hold now. She felt so wet and aroused; no longer capable of logic. “Want you … bond with me,” she told Fred.

“Soon, love” he promised, crawling between her legs and hitching one up so he could hold it over his arm. Then, “fuck, you’re beautiful”. Hermione tingled as she felt his breath on her just seconds before his lips connected with her pussy again. 

“Fred,” she could barely speak now for wanting him inside her. 

“Mmmm hmmmm,” Hermione’s head tilted back into the pillows as Fred’s tongue finally touched her clit and his hum sent vibrations through her. He licked and kissed her, opening her up with his tongue and then rolling it around in circles and waves over her clit, making Hermione groan and buck her hips towards his face. “Oh yes, that’s it, love. Want to feel you enjoy it.”

“Fred,” she was utterly unable to form a full sentence or say anything but his name, and he loved it. Fred moved a hand to cup Hermione’s bum cheek, using his fingers to gently squeeze the soft flesh further towards him. His tongue licked and caressed her and he alternated deep strokes with quick kisses, which almost drove her mad with desire. His hand stroked her bum and the tips of his fingers sneaked into all sorts of naughty places, barely resting anywhere before they moved again. Hermione was awash with new, delicious sensations that were falling over each other in their intensity. She was panting as reached her fingers into Fred’s red hair, still chanting his name. 

Fred lifted his eyes in time to see Hermione’s breasts rising and falling faster than before. “Gonna come … in your mouth,” she gasped, somewhat amazed at her own wantonness.

“Go on, love,” he breathed into her, deepening his kissing and licking even further. He was so hard and could barely stop himself from grinding his cock into the sheet beneath him as he pleasured his wife with his lips and tongue. Fred didn’t think he had ever felt this turned on. He couldn’t wait to find out how it would feel to plunge his naked cock inside her.

Hermione keened as her orgasm began. She had had plenty of orgasms at her own hand, but none like the one that now built inside her. Like a waterfall, the sensation cascaded over her body until it became so intense that she had to put a temporary stop Fred’s kisses with a hand to his shoulder. 

“Oh Fred,” she gasped, breathless. “Want you inside me, now. The magic … the bond … need to complete it –”

Fred obeyed, moving up her body. He kissed Hermione’s mouth and she tasted herself on him as he began to slide the tip of his cock inside her. Hermione’s head and shoulders nestled back into the soft pillows and she moaned softly.

“Gods, Freddie. You feel so good. More…”

“Sure you’re OK, love?”

She just nodded, and Fred eased his cock into her, inch by inch, watching her face carefully as he did. He was trying to be gentle, but restraint wasn’t easy. He felt a degree of relief when he realised that the magical connection between them was becoming so strong that he was starting to be able to feel her emotions inside him. He was reassured to realise that she wasn’t in pain. Their combined feelings felt so good and all he wanted was to bury himself deep inside her warm wet pussy and stay there forever.

Hermione’s hips began to move with his; hesitantly and erratically at first, but they soon found a shared rhythm. Fred moved himself further up her body, ensuring his cock would rub the most sensitive parts of her with every thrust. He wound one hand into her hair and pressed kisses into her neck.

“So pretty … so sexy … so fucking wet…” he murmured into her ear as he pushed his cock into Hermione, over and over again. 

Hermione couldn’t think. Couldn’t do much of anything except meet Fred’s body with her own, grasping his shoulders, trying to get her legs even higher up his waist so she could pull him further inside her. She hadn’t even known that it was possible to feel this way. 

Fred still couldn’t believe his luck. Just forty-eight hours ago, on Friday evening, he had been single and unsure about whether the witch he wanted would ever know his love for her, let alone return his feelings. Now, on Sunday evening, he was making love to the very same witch, and now she was his wife. They were bound forever by their magic, he had a lifetime to spend with her and, right now, he was fucking her so deeply that he wasn’t sure if either of them would be able to get out of bed tomorrow. 

He leaned in and kissed Hermione’s ear, licking the shell again before suckling on her earlobe, earning himself a fresh groan from his witch. Her fingers gripped and then stroked up his long back, now damp with sweat, and Hermione began to breathe more heavily as she felt a new wave of sensation building in her core.

Fred felt it too and grunted into her ear. He increased the depth of his movements as his thumb reached for her clit and gently rubbed circles in time with his thrusting. “I’m so close, ‘Mione. Come again, with me … let’s complete the bond, love.”

With the ancient magic involved, just like when they had sealed their wedding bond with a kiss, it wasn’t really a matter of choice. Utterly overwhelmed by the feel of his thumb on her clit, his cock inside her pussy and the magic of his soul touching hers, Hermione lost control. She keened again and then helplessly chanted Fred’s name over and over as her orgasm began to pulse through her body. Fred’s brow knotted as he felt her squeeze his cock and he too lost control, thrusting into her twice more, hard and deep, before finally pumping his seed into her body as the magic surged through and between and around them and then out into the air and the sky. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Their magical cores fully connected and a pulsing golden light surrounded them. Hermione Granger and Fred Weasley’s eyes locked together as both felt the once-in-a-lifetime sensation which was the soul-bonding combination of connection and orgasm and love and a thousand other sensations that they would remember always but never be able to describe in words, no matter how eloquent they both might be. They could feel each other’s heartbeat and emotions, although it would take them a little while to realise that this was a permanent consequence of their bonding rather than an immediate after-effect. In bliss, Fred and Hermione connected; they now belonged to each other, forever. Magical didn’t come close to describing it.

Several moments passed while Fred remained on top of Hermione, desperately trying to take his own weight back onto his arms but unable to move. “Relax, Fred,” Hermione told him. “I can take your weight for a few minutes.” He did, while murmuring his love for her into her ear and kissing the side of her neck. Hermione stroked her fingers through his hair and assured him of her own love until he dropped his forehead down onto her shoulder and they just enjoyed the magic dancing between their connected cores.

“Can we do that a lot?” Hermione whispered into his ear.

“Absolutely, love. Every day. Twice if you like. Three times on Sundays.”

After a couple of minutes, Fred found the energy to roll over onto his side, pulling Hermione with him and cradling her against his chest while their breathing further calmed and slowed. They stared softly into each other’s eyes, getting used to the feel of each other within their own magic.

“I can still feel your heartbeat!” Fred was very excited at this.

“I know; me too … I mean, I can feel yours.”

“I thought it was just while the bond was forming. Do you think that will happen even when we’re apart?”

“I don’t know. I imagine it might, Fred. That’s probably the point of it. I kind of want to see whether our core connection affects my casting ability, but I’m way too tired to reach for my wand.”

“Normally I’d be happy to wait on you, ‘Mione, but I don’t have the energy either.”

“No problem. I think the bond magic just wants us to cuddle anyway.”

He shifted her closer to his body and kissed her cheek. “Tired, love?”

“Yes. Shall we take a quick nap and do that again when we wake up?”

“Oh fuck yes, love! You are just having the best ideas tonight.” He sat up and reached down the bed to bring the duvet up and over them, and then laid back down with Hermione settled comfortably on his chest. Soft waves continued to land rhythmically on the shore. “Happy wedding night, ‘Mione.”

“Happy wedding night, Fred. I love you.” She looked into his eyes.

He kissed her tenderly. “I love you too.”

The second time they made love that night it was in darkness and under the stars. This time, as Hermione felt the final surges of her orgasm, she found herself laughing the kind of laughter that only came after such a release. The next time she got tipsy with George while keeping Fred company as he worked late to finish a batch of potions for the shop she would, with George’s full encouragement, laugh a deeper, loving kind of laughter as she teased Fred about his monosyllabic, irreverent marriage bond cursing. For now, though, she was simply filled with the joy of experiencing a depth of pleasure that she hadn’t known existed.

She leaned over and kissed Fred’s cheek. “Thank you,” she said.

“You are very welcome, love. That was most definitely my pleasure.”

Hermione nodded. “I never knew,” she said, blushing slightly.

“Knew what, love?”

“Sex. That it could be like that.”

Fred winked. “I guess not everything can be conveyed easily in books, Ms Granger-Weasley…”

“Oh stop it!” She playfully batted him. “The bookworm cliché is so, well, clichéed!”

“Yeah, OK, fair enough. How about I promise I’ll try to avoid the bookworm references if you promise to help the world see me as more than a silly prankster?”

“Deal,” smiled Hermione, stroking his face with her hand.

“Deal,” Fred whispered back, wrapping his arm more firmly around her. 

Hermione kissed his neck, curling into Fred’s side. She could finally relax. They were together and bonded, and she was safe. That time, they slept through until the sun rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're bonded, and safe! 
> 
> Now I don't know about you, but my story didn't end on my wedding night. Shall we carry on for a bit? 
> 
> Please let me know whether you'd like me to continue :-)


	9. The morning after the bond

Fred Granger-Weasley slowly awoke to the sound of waves in his ears, a slight breeze on his skin and the feeling of holding his new wife safely in his arms. Life couldn’t get much better than this, he decided. It was early, though, and their location meant it would be a while before the sun fully appeared over the cliffs.

“You awake?” Hermione mumbled, snuggling in closer to him, languidly stroking his chest with her fingers.

In response, he gently cradled her face and tipped it towards him for their first kiss of the day.

“Hello, love.” His arm slipped around her waist and his other hand moved to cup her breast. Hermione moaned gently as his thumb rubbed across her nipple.

“Are you ready to play again yet?” Fred asked. “Not too sore?”

“I feel good, Fred.” Hermione moved her hand downwards. “I’m not sore. There’s a definite kind of ‘Fred was here’ feeling between my legs, but it doesn’t hurt.” She cupped his balls and began to stroke him with her fingers.

“Oh fuck, love, that’s sexy.” Fred’s head tipped back.

“What I said or what my fingers are doing?”

“Both,” he groaned.

Hermione leaned over and licked Fred’s right nipple.

“Oooooh, isn’t that my job?” he asked.

“I’m just following a bit of Charlie’s advice,” she replied.

“Really? And what was that?”

“That I should find out what I like and tell you.”

“Oh yeah?” He leaned in again, looking deeply into her eyes and making Hermione’s heart rate increase further.

“Yes, and so far I can tell you that I like it when you lick and kiss my pussy … in fact I like that A LOT, Fred.” He smiled to himself. “I like licking your nipples and holding your cock and stroking you in my hand and your reaction to that makes me feel turned on.”

“So I should just like back and let you experiment, or shall we find out if you like it when I roll you over and take control?”

Hermione groaned that time. “Both, over the course of the next few days, but for now I’d like you to lie back while I explore. And I love it when you talk to me during sex; that’s a big turn-on.”

Fred grinned and lifted his arms up, putting them behind his head. “That’s good, because I’m a bit of a chatterer. Go ahead then, love, I’m all yours.”

Hermione began by stroking and touching Fred from her position by his side, but soon she decided it might be more fun to climb on top of him. Settling her pelvis over his, she leaned forward to kiss him deeply for several minutes while she wove her fingers into his hair. It wasn’t long before he was hard again, and she felt the head of his cock touching her pussy. Hermione began to move her hips, stroking herself against him. She loved the sensation but was worried she might move him the wrong way and hurt him.

“Am I doing it OK?” she asked.

“You’re doing brilliantly, love. Are you liking this?”

“Very much … do you like it when I move like this?”

“Fuck yes,” he couldn’t keep his arms out of the way anymore and they moved to caress Hermione’s hips. “Oh fuck, love, you’ve still got the garter on.” He stroked it with his fingers while she rocked in his lap. “Hermione … can I ask a question?”

“Of course, Fred.”

“Are you happy dry humping me, or would you like to go further?”

“Well … I think I would like you inside me now, but I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t know the best way to make it happen, so I’m just thinking that through.”

Fred smiled, but not unkindly. “Can I help?” 

Hermione nodded, and Fred reached his hand between them and took the base of his cock into his hand. “Here you go, love. I’ll hold him still and then you can figure out the rest. You won’t hurt me, ‘Mione.”

It took her a few minutes to figure out the angle, but Hermione soon sunk down onto Fred’s cock and they both let out a soft moan as he slid up inside her. She leaned forward, allowing her hands and arms to take some of her weight, and began to rock on him.

“Oh, gods!” It was quite clear to Fred from the look on Hermione’s face that this position was going on her list of things she liked. Initially, he resisted the urge to grab her hips and fuck up hard into her as she wriggled experimentally into a series of slightly different positions, but once she found the position that made the head of his cock rub against the front wall of her pussy, it was clear that neither of them were going to last long. Just as they had the previous night, they were each able to feel the emotions of the other through their bond, and the addition of this to the physical sensations of their bodies rubbing together meant that they came to a climax sooner than they might otherwise have done. 

As Hermione’s eyes widened with the beginning of her orgasm, Fred lost the ability to control his own movement, and began to buck up into her as he cradled her hips with his hands. Hermione keened into the breeze as she came and then sunk down onto Fred’s chest, panting and full of wonder at the sensations she was experiencing.

They chatted softly in the afterglow and as the daylight crept in more fully.

“Well we’re now way past the sunrise that we needed to complete our bond by, love. I think we can say we achieved that…”

Hermione smiled and patted his chest. “I would say so, yes. I wonder if there will be any record of our bond in the Ministry.” She lifted her head to look at him.

Fred held her closer, stroking her hair until she settled down again. “Let’s not worry about that now. I feel like you should be doing less thinking and more relaxing.”

“OK,” Hermione replied. “I won’t always think about sex so much, Fred,” she promised. “Just while I’m learning.”

“Love, if I wasn’t OK with a thinking witch, I wouldn’t have married you. You go ahead and think all you want. As long as I’m allowed to try and stop you thinking now and again!”

“That sounds very tempting!” Hermione told him, reaching to stroke his cheek, which was slightly bristly. “I think I like your morning stubble, by the way. I wondered if it might be itchy making…”

He chuckled, and then spoke in a low voice. “We should find out how you like the feel of it on your inner thighs when I’m licking your pussy.”

“Mmmmm.” Her stomach filled with anticipation, which Fred felt through the bond. “I need a break for a bit though, I think. And I need to use the loo and brush my teeth.” 

“Well then, I shall release the fair maiden to answer the call of nature.”

Hermione swung her legs out of the bed and reached for her washbag, some clean knickers and a long tee-shirt, silently sending a wave of gratitude to Ginny for her thoughtful packing. She pulled the tee shirt on and padded across the wooden flooring to the cabin that housed the loo and shower. They hadn’t had much chance or desire to explore their honeymoon home the previous night and Hermione now saw that, as well as the hot tub, there was also a large outdoor bath which she was pretty sure she would be inviting Fred to join her in later on.

Having used the loo, Hermione decided to have a quick shower while she was there and stuck her head out the door to call and let Fred know. He waved in response and called back to ask her if she wanted him to make her tea or coffee.

“Coffee, please!” she replied. “As long as there’s cream and sugar!”

Padding back across the sandy floor to their bed after her shower, Hermione crawled back under the covers and slid towards Fred, curling into his arms and resting her head on his shoulder. She relaxed into the sensation of feeling Fred’s magic bonded to hers. It was a curious feeling, but a good one too. She could sense Fred there inside her magic and she felt sure that they would be able to use the bond to communicate in some way, once they had got used to its nature and power. Hermione already knew that she could pull on Fred’s magic if she needed to, but there was something else there as well, and it was bothering her slightly that she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. She sat up to reach for her coffee, thanking Fred for making it as she did.

“It’s my pleasure,” he told her, happy to be learning more about what his witch liked and how he could make her happy. “Though I thought you were a tea drinker?”

“I am,” Hermione replied. “Except on Sunday mornings, when I love to have coffee but only if there’s plenty of cream and sugar. Ideally, I like to go out to a coffee shop and have one. It’s my lazy Sunday morning treat as part of my attempt to find a new normal now we’ve defeated Voldemort. Didn't get a chance yesterday, so I thought I would have one today instead.”

Fred nodded in understanding. Everyone was trying for a new normal.

“In fact,” she continued. “There’s a new place in Diagon Alley that I’d like to try; Neville says they have flavoured syrups too, like in muggle London! Now that I’m going to move to the flat, maybe we could go there and try it out?”

“That sounds great. You should take your new best mate Charlie when he’s back; he’s a big coffee lover!”

“We should take him then…”

“Yeah, though be prepared for him to mock that, love…” He lifted his chin towards her mug.

Hermione turned to Fred, a bit confused. “Why’s that, then?”

“He’s a bit of a coffee purist … only has it black and strong and can’t understand why anyone would add anything to it!”

“Ha,” said Hermione. “I shall look forward to that debate then! It’s good that you’ve given me time to prepare my argument…” Hermione winked, Fred groaned and Hermione patted his hand. She wasn’t ready to have him inside her again just yet, but she kept forgetting how much she could turn him on with a wink. She needed to process the sensation that was bothering her, and she plumped and thumped her pillows into a more comfortable arrangement before settling back onto them for a bit of a think with her coffee.

“What’s up, love?” Hermione’s thinking face must have been obvious to Fred, she realised.

“Just thinking.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Maybe.” She lifted the mug to her lips and took another sip of the sweet, creamy drink before she replied again. “It’s our bond. I can feel you, but when I was in the shower I realised that I can feel something else there too. Almost … but no … I don’t know, Fred. I’m still trying to make sense of it.”

“What is it, love?”

“Well it’s going to sound stupid, but it sort of feels like another soul … almost, but we surely can’t be pregnant hours after we had sex for the first time? And anyway, I’m sure I’m not ovulating and it takes a while for the egg and –” 

Fred interrupted the beginning of Hermione’s biology lecture with a kiss. “Well, I’d like to get you pregnant at some point, love, but I hadn’t planned on it this soon… Even mum thinks we might need a while, and that’s saying something!”

“I know, Fred, me too! She gave me a potion, which was very kind of her.” Hermione put her mug back down beside her. “I should take it actually, now it’s morning and our bond is complete. Can you please pass my wand?” 

He did so and Hermione reached for her bag, summoning the package that Molly had sent. “Oooooh!” she exclaimed as she was unwrapping it. Molly had said she had disguised the package as cake but omitted to mention that it was nestled in a tin filled with her home-baked muffins, and Hermione gleefully opened them up, savouring the smell before placing the tin in between herself and Fred on the bed so that they could share some of his mum’s baking with their coffee.

Settling back on her pillows again after swallowing a dropperful of the potion and chasing it with mouthfuls of coffee and cake to get rid of the unpleasant taste, Hermione put her hand on her abdomen. “Maybe it’s a future baby or something, Fred. I’m clearly not pregnant. I don’t know anything about this kind of magic, and there wasn’t time to read up on it before we bonded. I was planning to go and have tea with Minerva when we get back, so I’ll see if I can use the Hogwarts library to do a bit of research.”

“Mione, I’m not taking back what I said about you thinking, but this is our honeymoon, love! Generally, people relax together rather than planning their future studying…” Fred slipped his hand over her tummy, stroking her in an attempt to keep her relaxed.

Hermione blushed slightly, but there was no point pretending to be anyone she wasn’t. “I know, Fred, but I don’t like not knowing things.”

He pulled her closer to him, relocating the cake tin to the bedside table. “Close your eyes, then. Let me see if I can help.”

Hermione obeyed, thinking that he was going to massage her or find some other way of relaxing her body. But instead she felt a soft sensation inside her magic, as if he was gently brushing the magical energy that now connected them.

“Oooooh,” she breathed at the new sensation. She had never felt anything like this before and was a bit surprised that Fred already seemed to know how to play with her magic when their bond was so recently formed. But maybe this was part of a seventh-year class that she had missed when she, Harry and Ron had embarked on their hunt for Horcruxes. 

“Relax, love,” he said. “I’m not doing legilimency or anything. Just feeling you through the bond and trying to help you work out what it is you’re sensing.”

Hermione rested against Fred’s chest and let him explore their bond together. She was also beginning to get aroused again and was about ready to turn and interrupt his investigations with a kiss when she heard a soft, “a-ha” from her husband.

“Is this what you’re feeling?” he asked, nudging his magic gently against the sensation that Hermione had noticed while she was showering.

“Yes,” she whispered back. “What do you think it is?”

“Hmmmm, let me try something,” he replied. “Can you feel it now?”

Hermione stiffened. The sensation had gone, but nothing else had changed. She was confused, because the sensation had been rather friendly and comforting, and already she missed it, even though she could still feel Fred. Hermione wasn’t at all sure she liked this not knowing stuff. “No, it’s gone now.”

A moment or two later, Fred said, “And how about now?” The sensation was back again. 

“Yes, I feel it again.” Hermione turned in Fred’s arms to see a beaming smile on his face. He cuddled her to him, stroking her cheek with one hand. “Do you know what it is?” she asked him. “How come you know about this and I don’t? How can you change the way I feel it? Is it our baby? Should I be worried?”

“No, love,” he replied, shaking his head and laughing at her barrage of questions. “If you can feel that, you never need to be worried.”

“Why?” She searched his eyes for the answer that he seemed to be stretching out for as long as he could.

“Because that’s my Georgie.” Fred’s smile was wider than ever and his eyes were alight with love.

Several moments passed before Hermione spoke again. “George?” she whispered. “I can feel George?”

Fred shrugged. “I guess so, love. Through our twin bond. It must have begun when our own magic bonded last night. I didn’t know it would; hadn’t really thought about it, what with everything happening so quickly.” He looked a bit concerned; was this going to bother her?

“But I only felt him when I was in the shower. Why didn’t I feel him last night, after we made love and finished our bond? Or this morning?”

Fred thought for a moment. “Well I guess if I have him shut out, then you wouldn’t be able to feel him either. That’s what I did a minute ago; I shut him out for a few moments, to help you identify if he was what you were feeling.”

“So you shut him out last night and this morning?”

“Course I did, love. Can’t have a twin link open with my brother when I’m making love with my wife, can I? We always turn it off if we’re getting lucky.” He wrinkled his nose. “Too weird otherwise.” He winked at her as he leant over for more kisses, and Hermione pecked his lips a couple of times. “I should really tune him out again now if you’re going to get frisky again…”

But Hermione still had questions. “So you can both turn it off if you need some privacy, but otherwise he’s there all the time? And you’re there for him?”

“Yep.” Accepting that Hermione was going to need a longer conversation about this before he could collect more kisses, Fred settled himself against the head of the bed, pulled her into his lap and used his long arm to get the muffins back in reach so they could both continue to munch while they chatted.

“Tell me how it works, please.”

Hermione asked many questions and learned a lot. She discovered that George and Fred could feel each other’s emotions and were often affected by what the other felt. That was no great surprise to her but this, Fred explained, was one reason that the two of them had always consciously focused on expressing their optimistic, fun-loving side. It was much nicer to build each other up than pull the other down, although he acknowledged that they could easily spin excitement out of control and never minded other members of the Weasley family reining them in. “You can just tell us as well, love,” he said. “We can’t always tell when we’re too much. We sort of feed off each other’s energy. Georgie’s better at realising than I am, though. He always has been. I’m more likely to get carried away and go too far…”

Questioning him more about the nature of their link, Hermione discovered that George and Fred didn’t generally feel each other’s heartbeat, as she and Fred now could after their marriage bond, but they each had a sense of the other’s wellbeing. Neither could they use the bond to talk directly, but they could link their imaginations – or that was as close as Fred could describe it verbally – and share real or made-up images and sensations between each other, which Hermione immediately suspected might be part of the reason that they were such successful inventors. She wondered if they realised that.

“We can’t share words exactly,” he explained, “or send messages as sentences. But we can kind of let each other know what we’re thinking and wanting. Look, it’s probably easier if I show you. Close your eyes again; it might help if you dampen your other senses a bit til you get used to it.” 

Hermione obediently closed her eyes and took the opportunity to cuddle further into Fred. After a couple of minutes, he whispered, “stop thinking, love … just let yourself feel it” and she breathed more deeply. A moment later, her eyes flickered open. “Breakfast!” she said, immensely pleased with herself. “You’re sending me the idea of a cooked breakfast!”

“Yeah, I couldn’t control that one. These muffins are great, but I’m only considering that my first breakfast, just so you know! I’ll be needing brunch at some point.”

“That sounds fair to me! Shall we get up and explore a bit? We can make another drink and see what’s in the kitchen for when you’re ready to eat again?” Hermione slid off Fred’s lap and headed to the food hamper as he raised his wand towards his own bag and summoned some clean clothes. 

Peering into the food hamper to see meat, eggs, cheese and an array of salad vegetables, Hermione began to think about the differences between being bonded and not. The bond was totally new to her, but Fred’s greater expertise on the matter was clearly rooted in the fact that he and George had been born with a shared bond. Neither, she reasoned, would know what it was like to live without feeling each other in their minds and their magic. 

Her thought was interrupted by Fred’s hand on her back. “Sausages!” he announced, reaching further into the hamper from behind her. “And beans! I love Angie, she’s thought of everything.”

But Hermione didn’t respond. An awful sensation had swamped her, as she suddenly realised with horror what must it have been like for George when Fred was in the coma after the Battle of Hogwarts. As that thought came to her, Hermione stopped in her tracks, wanting nothing more than to hug George and tell him she understood. She held onto the edge of the hamper, frozen by the thought and feeling a wave of anxiety wash over her body.

Fred felt the wave hit him a moment later, and he was dimly aware of concern emanating from George as well. Hermione hadn’t responded, and Fred turned to look at her. She was wide eyed, and he could feel her pulse increase through the bond.

“What is it love? Are you OK? You look pale, and you feel worried.”

Hermione swallowed and then launched herself into Fred’s arms. “Oh Fred, I’m OK but I … well, I just feel overwhelmed at what George must have felt after the wall fell and at being able to feel him too.” She looked slightly panicked, her eyes wide. “I really want to see him.” 

“It’s OK, love,” Fred reassured her. “I hadn’t realised this might happen. Let’s help you get calmed down before Georgie apparates over to Phil’s with worry and then, if you like, I’ll send a patronus and tell him to come for brunch.”

“That would be great,” Hermione said. “I know it’s supposed to be just the two of us for a few days, but I didn’t anticipate this and I don’t know what to do with it. Perhaps seeing him will help me calm down and make a bit of sense of it all…”

“Hey love, it’s OK,” Fred stroked her hair and tightened his arms around her waist. “You’re a Weasley now, and you’ve bonded with a twin. Alone time isn’t something George and I crave, love … especially from each other!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews and comments, which have spurred me on to expand this a bit. It can't last forever lol, but let's see how Hermione and Fred get on during their honeymoon and as they start their new life together...


	10. Brunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the lovely comments and feedback, which are still really helping to keep me going! :-)

Fred had rarely been apart from his twin for any length of time and, as much as he loved Hermione, was delighted to have an excuse to invite George over to join them at the cove for an hour or so. Wanting to reassure his brother, who he knew had felt Hermione’s anxiety through their bond, he sent a patronus asking George to come over for brunch and letting him know that he would send a further message when they were ready and had taken the anti-apparition wards down.

Fred then closed down his bond with George and set to calming Hermione, insisting that he perform a further round of husbandly duties to help her relax. Hermione didn’t mind that at all; she had also been permanently aroused since the binding cord had tightened around their hands the previous day. She happily let Fred treat her to half an hour of massage to help reduce her anxiety and then a demonstration of how his stubble felt against her inner thighs before welcoming him back inside her and moaning loudly as she reached another climax just a few minutes before he spilled into her with a groan.

“I’m never going to get tired of making love with you,” she declared, running her nails over his back and neck as they lay side-by-side in the mid-morning sunlight with him still inside her. “It’s my new favourite thing.”

Fred smiled in reply, his fingers dancing lazily over her skin. “Mine too. I’m really hungry now after that, though. Gonna jump in and out of the sea in place of a shower and then get some of those sausages on.”

They moved apart slowly, sharing more kisses, and then Hermione followed Fred in a run to the shore and a quick splash in the waves. As they walked back up towards their tent, laughing gently as they practised casting wandless drying charms on each other, Fred caught her hand. “As soon as I’m dressed, I’ll message your husband-in-law, love. It’s usually OK to have just one person at the shop on a Monday morning, so Verity will be fine til about lunchtime, but after that people tend to start heading to Diagon Alley. And if this law has been announced, well I’m not sure what that will do to the movement of the crowds…”

“That would be great,” Hermione told him, pulling on a pair of cotton shorts. “Don’t forget to ask him to bring Angelina if she’s free. We can find out what has happened with the marriage law.”

Fred nodded to show that he had heard as he raised his wand arm to cast a patronus and sent George a silvery message. 

Hermione moved towards the field kitchen that Phil’s staff had set up on the beach, which she loved. She had already informed Fred that they would need to spend at least a couple of long weekends at the magical campsite each year, and he had happily agreed. “I’m sure Phil will be up for that,” he said, “especially if you decide to make babies with me. He’ll probably offer to take care of them up there,” he lifted his chin to indicate the cliff on which the restaurant stood, out of view, “so we can make him some more down here.” 

Hermione had just laughed. It wasn’t even twenty-four hours since they had first discussed the topic of having a family together and she had decided to wait a while before telling Fred that the bonding magic seemed to have increased her desire to bear his child. She was still dealing with her newfound ability to feel both Fred and George as well as the anxiety that she had felt when she thought about what had happened in the battle. She wanted to think about it all some more before they had a conversation about it. Just because she had a desire didn’t mean that starting a family right away would be the right thing for them to do. In fact, she thought it would be much wiser to wait a while and was half inclined to have a chat with Molly about that upon return to reality. Until and unless she could locate her own mum and recover her memories, Molly was all she had as a mother figure.

Sending Fred to make the bed and tidy up their clothes from the previous night, Hermione was still pondering the bonding magic while humming to herself as she broke eggs into a bowl and turned the bacon and sausages over on the gas barbeque.

When George and Angelina apparated onto the beach, they were both holding a hand over their eyes. 

“Are you lovebirds decent?” George asked, as they both laughed.

“We are fully clothed,” Hermione told them. She handed Fred the barbeque tongs and ran to hug Angelina first, thanking her for her work on their honeymoon cove and the breakfast food. As soon as she had done that, she turned and threw herself into George’s arms, holding him close and burying her head in his neck.

“I’m so sorry, George,” she told him, her voice breaking and slightly muffled. “If I had known at the time, I would have taken your hand when that bloody wall fell and held you and not let go til he woke again. I wouldn’t have let you go through that alone … I didn’t know. I feel so bad.”

“Hey,” George stroked her hair. “What’s brought this on, ‘Mione?”

“The bond,” Hermione’s eyes were wide and full of emotion. “It made me realise how you must have felt when Fred was in the coma. When Fred closes your twin bond deliberately, it’s OK, because I somehow know you’re still there somewhere … and I guess you could probably break through if you needed him, but knowing how it feels to be able to feel you both … thinking about how I didn’t feel that before and how I would feel if one of you was hurt … I can’t bear the thought of what you must have been going through when you had felt him that way all your life and I didn’t even realise you could feel each other like this.” She took a deep breath, ready to add more.

“Hey, slow down, it’s OK love…” George stroked Hermione’s hair, having only understood about eighty per cent of what she was saying. He got the gist of it though and was touched that she felt his pain and wanted to make it better. “I’m OK, ‘Mione. He’s here now, he’s OK; it’s over, we’re all OK.”

Hermione looked up at him, with tears in her eyes. “I know; it’s just so much to get my head around sometimes.”

“I get it, love.” George caught his girlfriend’s eyes over the top of Hermione’s head. Angelina was hugging Fred and quietly teasing her old friend about his wedding night with the witch of his dreams. 

George continued to stroke Hermione’s hair. “It was a bit unexpected for me too, but we’ll be OK. You might even grow to like being able to join in the twin chat!” He pulled away and winked at her.

Wandering over to rejoin George and Hermione, Angelina reached out and gently took Hermione from George’s arms, wrapping her own around the younger witch.

“Come and sit with me, sweetheart,” she said to Hermione. “Why don’t you go and help Freddie cook?” she suggested to George, “while I chat to Hermione here. She’ll never tell me the good gossip with you two around!”

Angelina led Hermione to the wooden benches and table where they both sat on the bench that allowed them to see Fred and George working at the grill. 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione sniffed.

“Well you really don’t need to be,” Angelina told her, passing over a tissue from her handbag. 

“I’m such a strong person though,” Hermione said. “But over the last few weeks, I seem to cry at every opportunity, and I don’t know why!”

Angelina laughed, but not unkindly. “Isn’t everything you’ve been through over the past few years reason enough?”

“I suppose,” Hermione shrugged, as Fred walked over to the table with fresh cups of coffee for the two witches, who smiled their thanks. 

“Seems to me it’s a good way of releasing stress, love” he said, taking the opportunity to stroke Hermione’s back and kiss her on the cheek. “Though I’ve got plenty more ways of relaxing you up my sleeve!”

Hermione smiled and gently rubbed his leg before he walked away again. “I’m OK, thank you,” she said to Angelina. “It never lasts long. But ever since the battle of Hogwarts I find I keep getting hit with these bursts of emotion and I need to have a good cry. I do find I feel better soon after though.”

“Well clearly that’s just normal for you for the moment, so I don’t think you should feel bad about it. I’ll keep an eye on Georgie if you’re worried about him feeling it through the bond?”

“I am a bit,” Hermione admitted. “And I was so distressed when I realised how he must have felt when Fred was in the coma.”

Angelina looked thoughtful and leaned in a bit closer so that only Hermione could hear. “Between you and me, I don’t think he’s coping quite as well as he’d like us to think. I’m not overly worried, but I think we could all do with accepting that it’s going to take us some time to come to terms with everything that happened.”

Hermione sipped her coffee, happy that Fred had already learned to make it just as she liked it. “I think you’re right. Thank you for talking to me about it.” 

“Anytime. This must all feel really overwhelming,” Angelina said. “Not just the speed of the wedding and everything, but Kingsley’s insistence on the full bonding and now this thing with Georgie?”

Hermione nodded again. “We know why Kings insisted on the full bonding; it means even the Wizengamot can’t reverse our marriage now. We don’t know what the marriage law is going to say, but it doesn’t matter to Fred and I now. Are you OK with it? Have you heard about it?”

Angelina shook her head. “No. It’s weird; there hasn’t been a whisper, so we don’t know any more than we did before. I’m more concerned about you, really. I can’t imagine having one of these nutters in my head, let alone both. When George told me he could sense you this morning, I thought, you poor woman,” she laughed, and reached to pat Hermione’s hand in reassurance.

“You’re OK with it?” Hermione asked, a bit tentatively. “I really wanted to see you too, to find out how you feel.”

“Of course I’m OK with it, silly! How could I not be? You’re free from a potentially shitty life with a death eater, because it’s clear from what George said that that was a danger if you had waited for the law, and you’ve made Freddie happier than I’ve seen him since they perfected canary creams!” She took a sip of her own coffee. “And it’s not like any of you could help it.”

“No,” Hermione shook her head and then grinned, leaning to whisper to Angelina. “When I sensed another soul there this morning, I thought I might have got pregnant already until Fred worked out it was George I was feeling.”

“Oh that’s brilliant!” Angelina bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing too loud, and then she leaned in again. “Hey, before they come over … I know George offered to marry you as well. He told me yesterday and I think it’s important you know I’m OK with it.”

Hermione looked at Angelina, slightly unsure about whether Angelina was being truthful.

The older witch smiled. “I mean it, Hermione! It’s fine! You were in danger and I wouldn’t want him to do anything less than offer himself along with the others. But he knew it would never have come to that because of how Fred felt. I just don’t want it to ever be a thing between you and I.” She looked at their men, who had their heads together over a frying pan. “Or us and them. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, you know.”

“I imagine we will, though I must admit I hadn’t thought about that.” Hermione looked at her husband’s brother and then back at Angelina. “I would have never agreed to marry George or Ron, you know. It wouldn’t be fair, when they love other women.”

“Ron?” Angelina’s eyebrows raised. 

“He has quite a soft spot for Luna,” Hermione confided.

“Oh, interesting,” Angelina hadn’t known that. “Well, you and I need more time together so how about lunch when you’re back? I want to know how George and I can best help you two over the next few weeks, what with the suddenness of this, and we should maybe talk about starting a weekly date night for the four of us, if you’re open to that?” She looked over at their men again. “They need lots of time together … that’s why Freddie comes here with us a lot. I’ve been having a sort of weekly double date night with them up at my dad’s place on Wednesdays, so they can get their twin time outside of work, but it’ll be even better now you’re in the picture.”

“Oh that would be great, Ange … let’s just keep that going, if you like?”

Angelina beamed and nodded in agreement. “I’ll run you through my quidditch schedule too. It’ll help you predict when George is going to turn up at yours for dinner and a sleepover! Though maybe the bond will tell you that?”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea; it’s all very new. There’s lots I don’t know.”

“It’ll be OK. He’s a good man, Hermione. They both are.”

“I know. I’m not worried. But thank you. I feel much better now we’ve talked.”

“One piece of advice before they come back?”

“What’s that?” Hermione asked.

Angelina looked back at Fred and George and Hermione followed her gaze. “This first few weeks is your chance to set the standard for who does what in your new family. Look at them; those two are more than capable of running the house and cooking without input, so don’t fall into the trap of doing too much or taking over things they can already do … I know from friends who made that mistake that it can be hard to pull that back later.”

Hermione nodded. “That makes a lot of sense. Thank you. Can I ask you a question though?”

“Of course.”

Hermione checked to see that Fred and George couldn’t hear them. “Have you thought about, you know, if you and George were affected by the marriage law, or if you got married anyway. Would you want to fully bond, do you think?”

Angelina looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. A full bonding could interfere with my playing quidditch. I don’t want to give that up, but waiting until the end of my playing career until we get married isn’t appealing either … Molly won’t let us share a bed at The Burrow and my dad’s not keen either, so we have to sneak about a bit. No, I think a non-bonded wizarding marriage would be better, and that’s what most people do these days. You and Fred are in a small minority nowadays.”

“Oh,” said Hermione. “Why would it be a problem for quidditch?”

“Bonded players aren’t allowed to play professional quidditch. A bond can give an advantage, like with Fred and George, although twin bonds are allowed at school level because they’re not made by choice and the ramifications are different because they were both on the same team. But it can also make players vulnerable … like if anything happened to George when I was playing, I would know immediately and that could put me off the game. Not good for the team.”

“I see.”

“Even a small accident at the shop could distract me. And there are plenty of those, by the way, so you can expect to get to know St Mungos pretty well! And this new revelation,” she indicated between Hermione and George, “well I guess that means if I bonded with George then I would have a link with Freddie too … I don’t know if I need to be driven that crazy, but you can keep me posted on how it goes for you!” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’ve liked Fred for a very long time, but if you had told my twelve year-old self that I would end up magically linked with both of them, she would have been horrified!”

Angelina laughed and patted Hermione one more time as they watched Fred and George make their way to the wooden table and chairs that served as a dining area. “Oh…” Hermione pulled a sad face as the boys put the plates down in front of them and sat down on the opposite bench. “This looks lovely, but one important thing you need to know about me and breakfast food which I forgot to tell you, Fred, is that I hate baked beans more than anything else in the universe, except maybe Umbridge. Would anyone like more?”

She felt their mutual excitement through the bond a nanosecond before Fred and George’s hands both shot into the air. Angelina laughingly shook her head, so Hermione took up her wand, sending exactly half of her beans onto each of their plates and cleaning the bean juice (which she considered the worst aspect of the baked bean phenomenon) from her own.

“Thank you, Hermione” they chorused.

“No, thank you,” she replied. “This is such a treat.” Angelina mumbled her agreement through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“So,” asked George, grinning widely, “apparently you thought I was a baby when you first felt me?”

“And she wouldn’t have been far wrong, sweetheart,” Angelina reached across the table to touch his fingers.

“Have you played with the bond much yet?” George looked at Fred this time.

Fred waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, I didn’t mean like that; you and your one-track mind. I’m quite aware of the sudden increase in twin bond shut down time over the past few hours. I meant have you seen what you can do with it other than sex?”

“No, not really.” This time Hermione spoke. “I actually was a bit freaked out this morning when Fred was no longer actively shutting down the twin bond and I realised I could feel you too, and I kind of needed to see you and get my head around it, which is why we invited you over.”

“And are you feeling better for that, love?” Fred asked.

“Much. Thank you.” Hermione carefully cut up a piece of bacon and then turned back to George. “I just kept thinking about how awful it must have been for you when Fred was in the coma.”

George reached across and touched her arm. “Like I said, we need to focus on the fact that he woke up and he’s here now. Let’s not dwell on what’s in the past. If the war taught us anything it’s that we should seize each day and live for now.”

“You’re right,” Hermione agreed. “And you won’t have to tell me a third time; I’ll move on then. I love your dad, by the way,” she said, changing the subject and turning back to Angelina.

Angelina’s face broke into a smile. “He couldn’t stop talking about you yesterday either. He apparently has a plan to adopt the two of you rather than risk seeing Fred less!”

“He said something about that,” Fred laughed. “It’s all good … ‘Mione here is already in love with the cove and the restaurant, so we’ll be over plenty.”

“Yes,” agreed Angie. “I’ve chatted Hermione into keeping up Wednesday night date night as a foursome. You’re welcome, boys!”

“Oh that’s great, ‘Mione,” Fred blew her a kiss.

“It’s really the least I can do. I don’t want to disrupt your life! And besides, I love the restaurant … it’ll be fun!”

They ate in silence for a few moments, though it was clear that Fred and George were having a non-verbal conversation. “What now?” said Angelina, without even looking up from her food. Having been in the same Hogwarts house and classes with them for six and a half years, she could easily tell when they were plotting.

“Ask Hermione,” said George, nodding towards the slightly distracted witch.

Hermione looked up. “Oh sorry, I was just thinking about new ideas for fireworks, for some reason. Maybe because of the ones George created for the wedding display.”

George and Fred high-fived each other. “Yes!” they said together.

“Did you send me that thought?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

“Georgie did,” said Fred proudly. “He thought of fireworks and I thought of nothing. We wanted to see if it would reach you.”

“Hmmm,” Hermione was interested. “I haven’t picked up your normal thoughts, though … not that I’ve really tried.”

“Yeah, that’s to be expected. Like I said earlier, it’s not legilimency. In our experience, there has to either be focused intent or a really strong emotion, like pain. It’s not meant to take over your life.”

Angelina reached for a piece of toast. “Yeah, it’s that last one you’ll need to watch out for.”

The other three looked at her with some uncertainty.

“Well,” she continued. “I don’t know what Hermione’s thinking of doing for a job, but you’ll have to take the bond into account now. You’ll each feel if one of the others is in danger or pain, so I’m guessing you’ll need to make sure you don’t do anything that will put any of you in too much danger. It’s like the quidditch thing that we were talking about … say if Freddie had a potions spill and was in pain and Hermione was flying around testing brooms for a living –”

“Ha! Nice one, Ange!” George smirked.

Angelina grinned. She had already heard all about how George had helped Hermione overcome her fear of flying. “Well, you don’t need to get paranoid, I’m just saying that you might need to think about the bond when you decide what you want to do. They might not let you be an Unspeakable if these two might be able to tap in what you’re up to…”

Hermione shuddered. “You’re right; though that’s not a career path I was considering. Maybe I should try and get a job that’s flexible or close to the shop, just in case. But we’ve already decided there’s no hurry; we have time to think about it.”

“You do,” smiled George. “And talking of time, as lovely as this has been, I probably need to get back to the shop. It probably won’t be too bad, but it’s not fair on Verity...”

“Thank you for coming,” said Hermione.

George barked out a laugh and opened his mouth to make a dirty comment but then closed it with a look from Angelina. He raised his palms in the air in surrender. “OK, she can have that one, but just the one!”

Angelina stood up and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek. “Right, I’ll take your baby away now and let you get on with your honeymoon in peace. I’ll fill my dad in on anything that comes out about the law and then, if you want to know, you can pop up and ask him. But don’t stress; have a lovely time and shut out George as often as you need to!”

The two couples walked hand in hand towards the apparition point, which was a short distance from the yurt. Fred slipped his arm around Hermione’s shoulder and they looked the picture of married bliss as they stopped to watch George and Angelina walk the last few yards. “Don’t worry about the job stuff,” he said quietly. “We’ll figure it out, love.” He leaned towards Hermione, capturing her chin in his fingers and bringing her face close to his for a kiss.

“Eeeeew, Fred, no!” Hermione shrieked, as his lips touched hers.

Fred pulled back, astonished. “Are you OK, love?”

“No!” She wiped her mouth. “Bean juice!” she shrieked. “You taste of baked bean juice! Not acceptable! No more kisses for you until you’ve brushed your teeth and sucked on a mint!”

George’s loud laugh could be heard echoing around the cliffs for several seconds after he and Angelina apparated away.


	11. Beginning the honeymoon

After they had waved goodbye to George and Angelina, Fred sent Hermione to relax in the morning sun on the day bed while he cleaned his teeth and sorted out their breakfast things. “You deserve a rest,” he told her as he dropped a kiss onto her curls.

“I don’t know,” she replied, unable to stop a large smile from breaking out across her face. “I’d say you’ve expended just as much energy as I have, maybe more.”

“Maybe, but I like taking care of you, love,” he told her.

She raised her hand to her heart in acknowledgement of his gift. “Then I will obey. Actually, I really want to sort my bag out. I have no idea what was in there even before Ginny packed for me, and I wasn’t keeping track of the things that people gave us last night, so I’d like to see what’s what…” 

Picking up her beaded bag from beside their bed, Hermione headed to the comfy day bed that sat just a few yards from where the waves were lapping onto the sand. Swathes of floaty lilac and blue fabric rippled around the sides and roof of the four-poster bed to protect the occupants from the heat of the sun and Hermione enjoyed playing with the magical cooler to see if it really could produce any drink that she desired. 

Settling on an orange juice which had come with a slice of fresh fruit and a pink umbrella which clashed so horribly with the drink that it wouldn’t have been out of place in Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes, Hermione wriggled backwards until she was resting against the pillows. She sat upright with her legs out in front of her and emptied the contents of her bag onto the bed. 

“Bloody hell,” came a call from behind her, when Fred saw the large pile of stuff that had fallen out of the bag. “How long did Ginny think we were staying for?!” 

Hermione laughed. “It’s not all Ginny! I haven’t emptied this properly for ages. Look!” She held up a half-filled bottle of dittany to show Fred. “I’ve still got things in here from when we were on the run.”

“Want some music while you sort?” Hermione turned around to see Fred fiddling with a radio. 

“Yes, if you like,” she called back, wondering if they shared a similar taste in music. Even though they had known each other for years and had been so intimate over the past couple of days, there was still so much she and Fred had to learn about each other. She was happy when he chose a muggle soft rock station, and they both sang softly when a song that they knew came on.

Hermione surveyed the pile in front of her and decided to dive right in. It was very therapeutic to sort and organise her things; she felt that she was getting her life back into some kind of order. First, she picked out the things that were leftover from her time on the run with Harry and Ron and which she felt she wasn’t going to need again for the foreseeable future. She would hang onto some of the clothing and equipment, and it might be useful to put the potions into the bathroom cabinet in the flat, but Hermione didn’t need to think about that for now, so she packed it all into a small knapsack of Ron’s which had somehow ended up in her bag.

Pushing the knapsack back into her beaded bag, Hermione next sorted out the clothes that Ginny had sent her for her honeymoon, blushing when she came across a couple of lacy outfits that had clearly been intended for the bedroom. Glad of the opportunity to stretch her legs, she slid off the day bed and levitated the clothes in front of her, walking across to the yurt and then unpacking them into a chest of drawers on her side of the bed.

“That looks sexy,” Fred remarked, coming up behind her just as Hermione was folding one of the negligees into the drawer. “Can I see it on?”

“Right now?” Hermione turned to him.

“Anytime you like,” he winked.

She smiled, reaching for his hip with her hand. “Let me get used to the idea, will you?”

“Of course,” Fred bent and kissed her on the lips. “I take it that was Angelina’s idea rather than yours?”

“Actually, I think it was your naughty sister, but feel free to attribute it to Ange if that makes you feel better!”

“Oooooh,” he pulled a disgusted face. “I think I will. I’m still not used to the idea of Gin-Gin as a grown-up woman!”

Hermione laughed softly to herself as she finished putting the clothes away and stood to make her way back to the now shrinking pile of things on the day bed. Fred followed behind. “Are you having fun, love?”

“Yeah, I really am.” She turned and put her arms around his waist. “Do you know what, Fred? I mean, laugh at me if you like, but this is really helping me adjust. Sort of putting my life back into order with the new developments.”

Fred leaned down and gave her a kiss. “Then I’m glad, and I’m not laughing. It’s all been very sudden, hasn’t it, love?”

Hermione murmured in agreement, leaning her head into his chest. “I’m so happy to be with you, Fred. I’m just … well, thinking about where I might be this morning if you hadn’t asked me to marry you … I don’t know what this new law is going to hold, but thank you. Thank you for being there for me, Fred.”

Fred leaned down so that their cheeks were touching. “Don’t thank me, love. I’m just as happy that we’re here and together as you are. If you hadn’t felt the same way, or if I hadn’t had the chance to ask you, well fuck knows what I would have done if something bad had happened to you as a result of the law. I don’t even want to think about it!”

“Oh sorry,” said Hermione.

“No, love,” said Fred. “I didn’t mean it like that. I think it’s important that we talk about it, so don’t be afraid to mention it whenever you like. That was just a figure of speech.” Scooping her into his arms, he carried Hermione back to the day bed and plonked her back in front of the pile. “What’s next then?”

“Well…” Hermione leaned forward and scooped a few items up into her arms. “I have some books and my cross stitch, so I can keep myself busy while I chat to you…” She made them into a neat pile beside her. That just left a few random items, including the champagne which Charlie had popped into Hermione’s bag as they left. She turned to her right, putting it carefully into the cooler. “We’ll open that later,” she told Fred.

“That sounds good. I’m getting a taste for your fizzy stuff!”

“More than firewhisky?”

He tipped his head, considering the question. “No, but we’re still having a prosecco and champagne fridge in the flat!”

“Well that sounds lovely.” Hermione paused, as his words had reminded her of something. “Fred?”

“Yes love?” He was stroking her hand.

“Do we have a plan?” Hermione looked at him shyly and with a bit of worry. She knew that she was supposed to be relaxing and that Fred didn’t need to make plans and have certainty in the way that she did. She wasn’t sure whether he might be cross that she was, again, needing to know what was going to happen next.

He sensed her worry through the bond and shuffled closer, looping his long arm around her shoulders. “What sort of plan would you like, love? You feel worried again?”

“I’m more worried that you might be cross with me for not going with the flow…”

“No,” he punctuated his reassurances with kisses. “I want you to feel comfortable. Tell me what you need…”

“OK,” Hermione took a deep breath and a moment to think. “Well I do feel better for sorting all of my stuff out, and I know we’ve decided that I’ll move into the flat when we leave here, but I don’t know how long you want to stay here or when you want me to move in or when you need to get back to work or, well, anything really. I feel a bit untethered, to be honest.”

“Oh, ‘Mione, I’m sorry,” he kissed her temple. “I forget you need to have a plan more than me…”

“I try not to,” she mumbled.

“No, really, it’s just who you are. I know that. Can’t say I won’t ever make fun of it, just a bit, but now’s not the time, I know. How about you get me some pumpkin juice out of that cooler and we’ll make a plan together?”

“Oh, can we really?”

Fred laughed, loudly. “Yes, love, really. You make it sound like I’m doing you a huge favour!”

Hermione blushed at that. “Well I feel you are, a bit!”

At that, he looked a bit more serious. “Hermione,” he looked at her seriously. “As I understand it from my dad, marriage is about considering the other person and thinking about what they need. It’s about respecting that their needs might be different from yours and working together so you can both be happy. You don’t have to do all the adapting, you know?”

She looked into his eyes. “You’re right. Thank you for reminding me. Charlie said something a bit similar…”

“Well he’s been on the same Arthur Weasley training course as me, love. And a bit more on the side from this secret mystery woman of his, by the sound of it… I’m guessing that means I’ve got some still to come, from you!”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. “Maybe…”

“Good. So now talk me through what you’re thinking about our plans?”

“Well that’s the problem, Fred,” said Hermione. “I literally don’t have anything in my future, and I feel a bit untethered, as I said. Before this all happened, I had been trying to put some things into my life and make a new normal, like having a weekly catch-up lunch with Harry and Ron when their training allows, but I haven’t got much further than that yet.”

“We have a few things of our own now though, love, don’t we?”

“We do?” 

“Yes,” Fred stroked Hermione’s hand. “We’ve got date nights with Georgie and Ange on Wednesdays, Sunday lunch at The Burrow, and didn’t you say you like to go for coffee on Sunday mornings?”

Hermione’s eyes had got wider and she grasped Fred’s hand. “You’re right, Fred. I do have some fixed points. Oh Merlin, I hadn’t even realised. I know it sounds silly, but this feels so good!”

Fred laughed. “Would you like me to suggest some more? All negotiable, of course?”

“Yes,” she said. “I really would.”

“Well I’m getting back into a routine at the shop, though we can be flexible with that. Friday evening we often go to The Leaky Cauldron, sometimes with Oliver and Neville and, well, whoever's around really. Saturdays are quidditch days. And we don’t have a firm routine for those, because it depends quite a bit on where Ange is playing, but more often than not Georgie works in the shop in the morning and I work the afternoon so that he can see Ange play. And Saturday evenings we mostly have takeaway, because we don’t know ahead of time when we’ll all be back, or sometimes we go out. Now we can change any of that, but that’s our routine at the moment…”

“No,” Hermione interrupted. “Don’t change any of it; I love it. I love that I can fit into things that are already happening.”

Fred looked at her, a little curious, and Hermione shrugged. “Throughout the last year, I’ve been so worried that I was going to be on my own. When I obliviated my parents, I knew it was probably irreversible, but I couldn’t let them be killed, and I know they would have been if I hadn’t done it. I was worried that people would think badly of me and that I would be even more alone than I already was…” She trailed off, and this time Fred scooped her into his lap so that she was straddling his legs. He brought his arms behind her back and hugged her to his chest, spearing the fingers of one hand into her hair.

“Not alone, ‘Mione. Never alone. You’re a Weasley now; you’ll bloody wish you could be alone sometimes, when we all get on your nerves, but you’ll never be alone, my love.”

More tears fell, and Hermione laughed through them. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to go more than a few hours without crying, Fred?”

He kissed a tear away, tasting the salt on his lips. “Like we said earlier, I think it’s probably your way of processing it all, and that can’t be a bad thing. Better to get it out and work it through, love, whatever it takes.”

“Bloody Voldemort. Bloody war.”

“Yep. But we won, and we’re safe. And we have each other.”

“Yes, we do,” she whispered. They sat in silence for a few moments, holding each other tightly. 

“Do you know what I’d like, Fred?”

“What’s that, love?”

“When I talked with Ron and Harry before the wedding, I realised that I’d really like to create a welcoming home like The Burrow, and invite everyone over, like your mum does.”

“That sounds great. We could have a pizza night now and again … Georgie and I love pizza, but most of the others don’t know how to order from non-magical pizza places. Or we could invite everyone over for board games.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I mean! Not every week, or it’ll get too much, but maybe once a month we could do that…”

“It sounds great, love. So when are you going to move in with me and make the flat your own so we can get going on creating this new life?”

Hermione scooted around in his lap to get more comfortable. “I don’t know. I don’t know what plans you’ve made with Phil for staying here. That’s something I’d like to discuss…”

“It’s up to you, love. There’s no definite plan.” He caressed her back with his fingers. “Phil’s expecting us to stay a few days, but he’d have told me if we had to be out by a certain date, and he hasn’t said anything about that. So we can go tomorrow or we can stay for a week or two if you like. George says he’ll manage for as long as I need him to, and we haven’t stepped back into full production mode at the shop yet, so he’ll be OK. And there’s no-one else we need to worry about. It’s more about you and what you’d like to do, love.”

Hermione considered the options. It was Monday morning, and if George really was OK – and she felt waves of calm and friendliness through the bond, so she decided to trust that he was – then she would love to have a few days of peace, love, reading and sewing on the beach with Fred. 

“Let’s stay until Friday morning, if that’s OK with you,” she announced after a while. “That way, we can spend Friday moving me into the flat, have a nice morning together on Saturday and George can go to Ange’s game. And we’ll be back for Sunday dinner and that will make your mum happy.”

“Wow,” said Fred, still stroking his fingertips over Hermione’s body, although his hands had moved in a southerly direction and he was now massaging Hermione’s hips, thighs and, when he thought he could get away with it, gently reaching for her bottom. “You really are good at this thinking and planning stuff. I have a new appreciation for the machinations of your mind. Are you sure the hat shouldn’t have put you in Slytherin?”

“Well he might have considered it,” Hermione teased. “But luckily he put me somewhere where I could keep an eye on you until you were all grown up and ready for me…” She slipped her hand into Fred’s shirt and leaned in for a kiss.

Fred’s eyes rolled back into his head as he felt her hand on the bulge in his trousers. “Come to our other bed with me, Fred,” she said. “I want to try something out…”

Twenty minutes later, Fred lay on his back; he was naked, spent and happy. Hermione had wanted to learn how to pleasure him with her mouth and had thoroughly practised licking, sucking and stroking his cock until he came with a cry that scared away a small flock of visiting seabirds. As soon as he regained enough energy, he turned the tables and reached to pull off her shorts and knickers, using his fingers and lips to bring her to a climax of her own. 

Afterwards, they lay in the sun, chatting about nothing of importance. They made a light lunch of pita bread, humus and salad, and then Hermione settled back onto the day bed with the radio and her sewing while Fred decided to have a run up and down the beach before diving into the waves to cool off with a swim. 

As she sewed, Hermione smiled to herself. They had made no plans for dinner but, now that she had a sense of what the next few days would hold, she was happy to live with not knowing some of the smaller stuff. She had, in fact, made a pact with herself to try and go with the flow a bit in that respect for the sake of her new husband, who clearly didn’t need to plan ahead nearly as much as she usually did.

Fred was still in the sea, swimming long lengths parallel with the shoreline, when Hermione heard a swooping sound coming from behind her. Startled and still on edge from the war, she quickly snatched up her wand and leapt to her feet, adopting a defensive pose. The Ministry owl that was heading towards her gave a screech and tried to backpedal in mid-flight when he saw her. 

Immediately, Hermione held her palms out, dropping her wand and reassuring the bird. “I’m sorry, little one, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She reached for a piece of the fruit that had been in her juice, holding it out for the owl, who came towards her and stayed as far away as he possibly could while dropping the letter that he carried onto the pillow and snatching up the fruit. He then backed away, flying up to sit on the top of the day bed. It was clear that he had been told to await a reply.

Glancing out to sea, Hermione picked up the letter. Fred had spotted that something was happening and was now swimming in a straight line towards the shore. Minutes later, he emerged from the waves, and Hermione unselfconsciously ogled his body, holding out a towel but making him get as close to her as possible before finally handing it over.

“Liking the view, love?” He leaned down and kissed her, hard, and she squeaked at his touch.

“Very much, Fred. We have a letter.” She held it towards him so he could see that it was addressed to both of them. “It’s from the Ministry, to both of us.”

“Fuck.” He sat beside her, towelling his hair. “Hi there, little owl. I hope you haven’t brought bad news…”

The owl looked nonplussed and gave nothing away. 

Hermione poked her finger into the envelope and broke the seal. “I’m slightly scared to open it, Fred,” she said.

“Love, we’re bonded now. It’s all legal, and there’s nothing they can do. Do you want me to look?”

Hermione shook her head. “Let’s look together.” She pulled the letter from the envelope and opened it so that they could both see it. It was short, to the point, and from Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic and the man who had made it possible for them to be together. 

Kingsley’s letter began by offering Hermione and Fred heartfelt congratulations on the completion of their bonding, apologising for intruding on their honeymoon and reassuring them that there was nothing to worry about. He went on to explain that he needed to speak with them both as a matter of urgency and requested that they join him in the private dining area at Phil’s restaurant at 7pm that evening. 

Hermione looked at Fred. “What do you think it’s about?”

“The marriage law … it has to be,” he replied.

They looked back at the letter. The final paragraph again urged them not to worry and Kingsley had written that he would make all necessary arrangements with Phil and looked forward to seeing them later. The letter finished by asking that they send a brief reply with Marlon, his owl, to confirm that the letter had reached them and that they would be at the restaurant later. 

“My heart is racing,” Hermione admitted.

“I can feel it, love. Mine is too, a bit. But Kings said not to worry, so let’s focus on that. And he congratulated us on completing our bond; he’s letting us know we’re OK. Let’s assume that all is good unless we’re told otherwise.”

“You’re right.” Hermione reached into her bag for a quill and wrote a quick note back to Kinsgley which she then gave to the owl. “Come with me, please,” she told the little bird, taking her to the food hamper and finding her a couple of small pieces of meat to sustain him on the journey home. Bowing his head in thanks, the owl gobbled up the snacks and then flew in a wide circle to the top of the cliff and out of sight.


	12. Kingsley's plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's another chapter. I've noticed that this is getting fewer reviews over the last chapter or two; is that because people aren't so into it now they're married? I have a few more chapters in mind (and haven't forgotten Charlie) but would really like to know if enough people are still enjoying it and keen for more? :-)

The thing that most surprised Hermione Granger-Weasley on the first full day of her honeymoon wasn’t anything to do with sex or even the revelation that she now possessed a connection with her husband’s twin brother. It was the degree to which she found she enjoyed sharing mundane activities with Fred, such as preparing their lunch and, now, getting ready for their dinner with Kingsley.

She had followed through with her plan of inviting Fred to join her in the bath – which was larger than she had thought, thanks to a clever charm – and they had gently and thoroughly washed each other’s bodies and hair, enjoying the chance to explore each other even more closely than before. After a long cuddly soak, during which Hermione had kissed as many of Fred’s freckles as she could without drowning, they had climbed out and wrapped themselves in enormous fluffy towels. Hermione had explained her love of ‘drip drying’ by laying on the bed in a towel rather than rubbing her skin or using a drying charm, and Fred had decided to try it too, so they had curled up together on the bed, drying quickly under the late afternoon sun.

“Would you like me to summon the champagne, love?” he asked, as they lay together.

“That would be very decadent, and quite lovely,” Hermione pondered, “but I think I’d like a clear head for this. Go ahead if you’d like some; I want to see where the conversation goes first.”

“You’re probably right … how very sensible,” Fred lamented. “Oh, it’s like being married to Bill…”

“Hey!” Hermione rolled over and began to tickle him. “Take it back, you!”

“OK, OK,” he laughed. “Though Bill IS very sensible … Eldest brother, Head Boy and all that,” he winked. “Maybe you can put your school uniform on sometime and make me knuckle under…”

Hermione immediately felt wet. “Oh gods, Fred, I’m trying to get ready here, not dive back into another lovemaking session, wonderful as that sounds...”

He leaned in to kiss her and she gave in for a few moments before pulling back. The bond wasn’t getting any less strong, but if they succumbed to another round, they would be late. “Don’t make me be the one to always have to put the brakes on, Fred. It’s hard; I want this as much as you do…”

He sat up, feeling a little guilty. “You’re right love, I’m sorry.” He nuzzled her neck. “When we get back, though…”

“Oh Merlin, yes…”

Hermione enjoyed the everyday act of dressing together for their evening out; checking clothing choices with each other and having Fred unnecessarily but enjoyably help her button up the simple dress that she had chosen. As she slipped on a pair of sandals, she watched Fred bend over to pull on his trousers and almost lost her resolve to be there a little ahead of Kingsley’s arrival. She had said she would feel better if they could settle into their seats on the balcony ahead of time, and Fred was happy to go along with that.

It turned out that Kingsley had other ideas, though. When they arrived at the restaurant at 6.45, Phil told them that he was already on the balcony enjoying a beer in the sun. Phil hugged the pair of them and offered his congratulations, joking with them about the secrecy of their marriage.

“It was more sudden than secret, Phil,” Fred told the wizard who was like a father-in-law to him. “Charlie was home, we had a full set of Weasleys and we just went for it. I’m sorry we couldn’t ask you over…”

Phil held up a hand. “Don’t even finish that sentence, son. I’m just happy to see you wed to this lovely witch. Maybe it’ll give your brother ideas,” he smiled and widened his eyes, making Hermione laugh. “Anyway, your host is here, waiting for you on the balcony. We’ve already had aurors here putting up silencing and protection charms and I’ve had to agree to the Ministry sending one to act as your waiter, so my staff can’t overhear your conversation.” He laughed loudly at what was clearly a private joke as he escorted Fred and Hermione to the balcony where they had spent their first date just a couple of nights before.

Hermione grinned when she realised why Phil had laughed. Standing next to Kingsley was his personal auror assistant for the evening in the form of Harry Potter, who turned and greeted Hermione with a hug while Fred and Kingsley shook hands. “I’m not technically on the job,” Harry told her, lifting his wine glass in a toast. “Just ensuring that you two and Kings can have a private conversation and not have to stop every time the food comes and goes.”

Kingsley leaned forward and kissed Hermione on the cheek. “Thank you both so much for coming. Normally I would have asked you to the Ministry, but I wanted to disrupt your honeymoon as little as possible. I do apologise for this but, as I’ll explain, I felt I had no other option. Let’s get some food and drinks ordered; I don’t want to keep you in suspense.”

Having settled themselves on the beanbags, Kingsley made short work of ordering. “First,” he said, “this is on the Ministry’s tab; very least we can do. And second, I propose the Ministry buy us a couple of bottles of champagne to celebrate your bonding and, unless you have any objections, I’ll order Phil’s full tasting menu and Harry can bring it all out at once so we can all try a bit of everything for future reference?”

“That sounds delightful,” said Hermione, and Fred nodded in agreement. Harry opened the balcony door and went to take their order to Phil.

Kingsley wasted no time in explaining the reason for their meeting. “I’ll get right to the point,” he said, looking between Fred and Hermione. “The Wizengamot have been planning to introduce a marriage law, and I have been doing everything I can to prevent this from happening.”

Both tried to look surprised at this news, but neither were politicians and they had decided earlier that it would be best to allow Kingsley to lead the conversation and keep as quiet as possible until they found out what was happening. 

“I knew this when I met you on Saturday,” Kingsley continued. “I wondered, momentarily, whether you might have got wind of this, but of course,” he eyed them closely, willing them not to respond in a way that would incriminate anybody, “that would have been impossible.” He lifted his glass, allowing Harry to pour him some champagne, offering a toast to the still silent couple who raised their glasses in turn before taking a sip and continuing. 

“The law itself isn’t as draconian as some of the internal Ministry rumours were implying,” Kingsley said, “but the implications for a well-known muggle-born witch like yourself, Ms Granger-Weasley; I will admit that had me worried. We were planning to impose the need for young witches and wizards to marry, and the dwindling magical birth rate meant that some of those in the Wizengamot wanted to insist that muggleborn witches and wizards wishing to start a family needed to do so with pure or half bloods.”

He paused to allow that to sink in, not sure of how much of this news had reached Hermione and Fred’s ears. “We were not planning to dictate exact pairings. There are, however, some in the Wizengamot who retain some rather old-fashioned values, and a few of the covenants held by the older wizarding families that have fallen out of fashion rather than become illegal are … well let’s just say I was very glad to help you bond with Fred before we found out whether that would have become an issue. I feared you might have been forced into a marriage with another wizard before someone more suitable could have made you a marriage offer.”

Hermione lowered her head, partly in thanks and partly so that Kingsley couldn’t see her reaction as she took a drink. Fred felt her heartbeat speed up and took her hand in his.

“When I agreed to officiate for you, I knew I would need to explain to the Wizengamot on Monday morning that I married you to each other over the weekend, and that it was a time-sensitive, post-war, family commitment situation.” He sipped again, lubricating his own speech with more champagne. 

Fred softly squeezed Hermione’s hand under the table again; they were still unsure as to where this was headed. “After you left me on Saturday, as I lay in my deck chair and thought about how I would present the news, well it got me thinking. Oh, food Harry!”

Harry turned to see Phil beckoning him from the window, and they all paused. Opening the balcony door, Harry raised his wand to take over the levitation of a large, wooden lazy Susan on which all the food was laid out. He settled it into the middle of the table and sat down beside Kingsley as Phil saluted and ensured that the door was closed. They all took a few moments to serve themselves and each other with food before Kingsley continued talking.

“I have never been a fan of a heavy-handed, do-as-we-say-or-suffer approach; I would much rather offer carrots than sticks. Mmmmm, this is great!”

“It really is,” Harry agreed.

“And as I lay there and considered the words that I would use to explain my actions and the depth of your love to my colleagues,” he tipped his head to one side and looked at Hermione and Fred again before shrugging his shoulders, “I realised that – with your permission, of course – it might be possible to use the example of your love and devotion as a symbol which might work as a last ditch attempt to persuade others of the benefits of trying to encourage and promote an epidemic in family making rather than imposing it as a legal requirement.”

Hermione felt as if she was having a lightbulb moment, as she suddenly realised where he was going. She wasn’t sure if she was going to like the destination though.

“After all,” Kingsley was saying, “a horde of magical children borne from love is better than a few borne of pressure.” He looked at Harry. “That’s the basis of my argument to do away with the blood mixing element of the law which, as you know, is where you come in, Harry.”

Harry nodded his head, and Hermione looked at him briefly, but her concern about her own situation was too great to allow her to think about the implications of what Kingsley had just said to her friend.

“Are you asking me to get pregnant?” she asked quietly, casting her eyes to Fred and then to Harry, who was happily helping himself to more food, oblivious to this possible bombshell. Hermione wasn’t completely sure if that was where Kingsley was going, but she was really torn on this issue of children. Yes, their bonding had made the thought of bearing Fred’s child an attractive one, but Hermione knew she needed time before she made that commitment. 

“No, Hermione, I am not. Really,” he reassured her, with a deep and sincere look. “I realise that you, of all people, need time to recover from everything that has happened, and I think it would be grossly unfair of me.” He sighed. “That’s why I did everything I could to stop this law in the first place; it’s why I spent all morning persuading the Wizengamot to try my suggestion of delaying the law in favour of my new revised plan. It’s why I am hoping, with a slightly heavy heart, that you two might consider helping me with my campaign.”

“Why with a heavy heart?” Fred wondered if he was missing something.

“Because although you made this decision freely and together,” he looked out to sea for a few seconds before returning his gaze to the young couple, “I worry about it.” Deep down, Kingsley knew that the wedding law rumours had forced their hand and led to their decision to marry, and he wanted to acknowledge and apologise for this, while at the same time applauding the fact that their decision was going to lead to freedom for others. “It was me that insisted on the full bonding, and I worry that I went too far.”

Fred put his fork down and leaned forward. “Sir, I’ve not quite got my head around what you’re asking us to do yet, but if you’re feeling bad, then please don’t. I have wanted this wonderful witch to be by my side for years.” He looked at Hermione, who nodded. “There’s nothing that could happen that would make me regret what we’ve done; what you’ve helped us to do. Am I right in thinking that, if we hadn’t come to you and got married, we would all now be facing the law of which you speak?”

Kingsley nodded, sadly.

“Then I am doubly happy and grateful.”

Hermione reached for his hand, her gaze also on the Minister of Magic. “I feel the same. And perhaps we should tell you how far back this goes for us.” She turned her gaze to Fred, who nodded. “I realised when Fred lent me his jumper several years ago that it smelled like the amortentia that Snape had had us brew a few months before. I’ve loved this wizard for a very long time. Turns out he felt the same. I know what you’re thinking, and you don’t need to say it. I feel like Fred and I are soulmates, and we have no regrets.” 

Kingsley bowed his head slightly. “I surely appreciate hearing that. I am acutely aware of the political manipulations of powerful wizards over the past few years and it is not my intention to use others as pawns. You deserve to be allowed to get on with your lives now, and not to be the pawns of politicians. But your situation fits my cause, and I could use it to help people retain their human rights. If you would help, I will do everything I can to reduce what we are asking of you.”

“What are you asking, exactly?” Hermione spoke quietly.

“Please, I feel I’m making you worry more than you need to,” Kingsley spoke kindly. “I am asking,” he reached for his napkin and dabbed his mouth carefully, “if you would consider becoming the faces of a campaign in which we will explain the need for love and marriage and for magical folk everywhere to start a post-war baby boom, ideally with as much mixing of different blood types as possible. I want to use your story, if I may, as inspiration to others and as incentive to marry and have families rather than have us feel the need to bring in a law to ensure the survival and growth of the magical population.”

“Follow the lead of the war heroine and the resistance fighter, who held on to their love for each other as they played their separate parts through the war and then married as soon as they could once it was over…” Fred’s voice wasn’t as full of mirth as usual, but he didn’t look like he hated the idea.

“Exactly. My hope is that we can encourage others to do the same without needing to force it upon them. I don’t want to put pressure on you with babies, and we will be clear that we support people spending a few years together before starting a family as much as we support those who want to start immediately.”

“You might want to talk to Ginny about that,” smiled Hermione. Fred immediately put his fingers in his ears, and Kingsley laughed.

“Don’t think that thought hasn’t occurred to me; I’m a politician, remember?! There’s a reason I’ve already got Harry involved, but we’ll get back to that.”

“So what are you asking for, and what’s the time commitment?” Hermione was all business now, and Fred was impressed.

“A few hours at your convenience for a photo shoot; attendance at a couple of balls; coming along to stand beside me while I make a few key announcements if you can bear it. The Ministry will provide you with a generous allowance and cover your expenses. Essentially, I want to use your faces as war heroes and your story to back my campaign. It won’t hurt at all that you’re both lovely looking and clearly in love, but it’s not my intention to force you further into the limelight. I will take as much of the publicity as possible onto myself, and I have a series of announcements covering incentives which I can use to take the spotlight off you and place it on my programme.”

“Incentives?” Fred was intrigued and impressed by Kingsley’s strategic thinking.

The minister nodded. “Confidentially,” he tipped his head to one side and chuckled, “although I understand from Harry, who popped into your shop earlier today, that there’s a third person attached to this bond, so I am not asking you to keep any of this from George –”

Fred grinned. “Thank you.”

Kingsley bowed his head in acknowledgement and drank a bit more champagne before he continued. 

“Riddle and his supporters had an absolute fortune stashed away, and I have managed to corral a very large part of it for useful purposes. At this juncture in history, I can think of nothing more useful than to turn it into generous grants which we will give to any young couple marrying or adding to their family over the next few years. And that includes same-sex couples and those open to adoption, before you ask about equality, Ms Granger-Weasley. We have a number of orphaned children who will be far better off in families than institutions. We shall need to be careful; I don’t want people to marry or procreate simply because there is an incentive, so we will put some safeguards in place, but I think the small risks posed by this plan are far less than the implications of a marriage law.”

“Indeed,” Hermione was in complete agreement.

“I love that you’re going to do that with his money, and I’m OK with the poster idea,” Fred grinned. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, you would be! That’s the bit I’m not so sure about!”

“You’ll be great, love!” Fred waved his hand across the sky. “I can see us now. We’ll be standing on Stoatshead Hill, with fireworks from the shop going off in the background and a fan making our wedding robes blowing behind us and there will be big letters saying, ‘magic needs you’.”

Hermione snorted. “Or maybe we could both be naked and hold each other close so you couldn’t really see anything and have it say, ‘do it for the wizarding world’.”

Fred’s eyes grew wide. “Would you do that, love?”

Kingsley almost choked on his champagne. 

“Of course I bloody wouldn’t,” Hermione laughed. “But your face was a picture!” She turned to Kingsley. “I understand the need for this. I just don’t want any more limelight. I don’t know what I want to do yet, but I want to do it quietly,” she said.

“And I understand that,” Kingsley told her. “I wouldn’t ask if I could think of an alternative. We still need to have a conversation with your sister, Mr Granger-Weasley, but Harry has agreed in principle to considering a large, public wedding so that we can all celebrate the marriage of the-boy-who-lived-and-grew-into-the-man-who-defeated-Riddle with the love of his life.

“Oh, Ginny will love that!” Fred announced.

“Really?” Hermione was unsure.

“Oh yes,” he nodded. “Trust me. She won’t mind it nearly as much as you would. It’ll take the cameras off us for sure. And you do realise,” he turned towards Kingsley, grinning, “that my mum will love you forever for this?”

Kingsley pulled a wry face. “It did cross my mind that I would probably get a permanent invite to your solstice parties, but that wasn’t my main motivation, son.”

Fred let out a huge laugh. “This is OK, love, we can do this,” he said to Hermione. “Just think, it’s like you wanted to achieve with S.P.E.W., but with people being free instead. It’s like you’re knitting socks for everyone of our generation. A marriage law would be terrible, and this would mean we could save people from it.”

Hermione looked at Fred and took a deep breath, catching his eyes. She loved that this man shared her passion for justice, and she knew he would protect her from more publicity than she could handle. She leaned forward to gently reward her husband’s passion with a kiss and then turned back to Kingsley. 

“That’s all of it?” 

Kingsley nodded in reply. 

“Then yes, OK.” She was definitely feeling more relaxed now that she had heard the whole story, and she began to tuck in to her food with more passion than before, thankful for Phil’s heating charms which meant it was still fresh and warm despite the length of their conversation.

Kingsley looked immensely relieved and placed his hands together before offering them a small bow of gratitude. “Thank you both. More than I can convey. I will pay you both very generously for this, in any way you prefer. I know you already have the Order of Merlin money, Hermione, but nothing would make me happier then to transfer a sizeable portion of Riddle’s fortune to your vault in recompense for what you have done.”

“The shop does well, Minister” Fred interjected.” We don’t really need the money…” 

“I realise that, son. Don’t reject me without thinking about it, though, please. Your reward doesn’t have to come in the form of money. We can translate money into other things. Maybe we can create the perfect job at the Ministry for Hermione here, or help build you a house that will give you sanctuary and privacy from the world.”

Fred sat up a little straighter in his seat at that. “Actually, there might be something that I’d like to ask for, but I should talk to Hermione about it first.”

Hermione turned to look at him. She had no idea what he was thinking. Their earlier conversation had been all about her needs, and she was keen to hear what Fred would ask for. “Go ahead and say it, Fred. I can’t imagine I’m going to disagree and, if I do, well I think we know Kingsley and Harry well enough to chat it through in front of them…”

“Well, if Hermione agrees, then I’d like whatever you would have paid me to be paid to my parents instead, but by some means that won’t make them think they’re taking charity or anything like that. They’ve done so much for all of us and the Order and everyone. They’ve never had enough to go around, but they’ve sacrificed their whole lives for others.”

“Mmmmm,” Kingsley was nodding and thinking as Fred continued.

“And George and I, and Bill and Charlie too, we make more than enough to share with them,” he was explaining to Hermione and Harry as well, “but they won’t take much. We all do what they’ll allow us to; the problem is their pride…” He rolled his eyes, although he did understand how they felt. “If George and I try to give them things that are too costly, mum gets funny with us. So please, use my share to promote dad to a new job that he loves and triple his salary, or pretend that there has been an oversight and he actually has a great retirement plan … find a way to give them my share that they won’t question and that doesn’t look like it came from us, please. That’s what I’d like you to do to reward me.”

Hermione was gazing at Fred throughout and, when he finished, she took his hand in hers. “I agree wholeheartedly, and I’d like you to add my share to that as well, please,” she told Kingsley, who nodded.

“I think a promotion with a considerable salary raise and a new type of retirement plan could be arranged. I think perhaps it’s time the Minister had a special advisor for decoding muggle inventions. We’ll make it a post for three years with a splendid retirement package that he can take anytime he likes after that, so he can enjoy any grandchildren that you all provide. But,” he looked at Hermione, smiling, “only when you’re ready!”

Hermione and Fred both laughed out loud before Fred spoke. “That would be perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Kingsley smiled. “Now I’ll leave it for a couple of weeks so as not to arouse suspicion, but I think we’ll be having a Ministry reshuffle once we get our marriage ducks in a row, so I’ll make it happen then.”

Fred extended his hand across the table and Kingsley shook it. “Thank you, Minister. It means a lot to me.”

“To us,” said Hermione, giving Kingsley a warm smile. “So, I don’t mean to be rude, but is that really it now? Or is there anything else as well?”

“No,” Kingsley chuckled, “that’s all I can think of. I wanted to ask for your help, and the Wizengamot have given me until tomorrow lunchtime to put a reasonable ‘plan B’ together, with a commitment from the two of you, and Harry and Ms Weasley, and Harry doesn’t seem to think that will be a problem.

“I’m going to The Burrow to talk to Ginny once I leave here,” Harry told them. “I’d like to tell her that you two are in, if that’s OK with you?”

“Of course,” said Hermione. “And give her my love, please?”

“I will,” Harry nodded.

Hermione’s face fell. “What about Ron though?”

“What about him, love?” Fred looked concerned.

“He likes Luna, but they’re both purebloods.”

“Yes, that was another of my concerns with the original law.” Kingsley reached for another spoonful of spicy rice.

“You were worried about Ron?” Harry asked incredulously.

Kingsley and Fred both laughed loudly.

“Well not specifically Ron, but in principle … I was concerned about getting in the way of true love. We desperately need magical babies, but we need happy couples and families more, so by removing that qualification and replacing it with an incentive my hope is that happy couples will make more babies, and thus we’ll have more magical babies overall. In general, the pureblood families don’t need the financial incentive, so that shouldn’t disadvantage anyone overly.”

Hermione was nodding furiously. “So people will be able to marry anyone, but financial rewards will be there for those whose marriages mix blood and make babies.”

Kingsley made a sound of affirmation as he chewed. “It’s not perfect, but that’s the best I have so far. We’ll keep working on it, but it’s a vast improvement on the alternative.”

Hermione and Fred looked at each other and a wave of emotion passed between them. Luck, family and love as well as the trust of the man before them had saved them from being affected by the threatened marriage law. They had years to debate the paradox and the irony; for now they were more than happy to let Kingsley use their story if it would help him help others to marry and live in love rather than being forced together against their will. Snuggling closer together on the beanbag, the couple relaxed fully for the first time since they had reached the restaurant, tucking into the food and champagne and chatting happily with their friends. And if Fred still harboured fantasies about half-naked photo shoots on Stoatshead Hill, well nobody needed to know about that until he whispered them into Hermione’s ear later as they lay in bed later that evening and chatted about their day.


	13. Tea at The Burrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews and encouragement! Writing can be a lonely activity, and feedback makes all the difference! So I want to urge you, if you like a piece of fan fiction (any fan fiction, not just one of mine lol) to take a moment or two to post a review or comment telling the author that you like or appreciate it. It might give the author the encouragement they need to continue with the next chapter rather than abandon! You don’t need to write loads, and, if you can’t think of what to say then just write, “I’m enjoying this” or “this is lovely” or “I wish I had a Fred/George/Charlie”…

The remainder of Fred and Hermione’s honeymoon passed happily. They were delighted to discover that they both tended to rise early. Fred would get up and run before making breakfast, returning with product ideas that he loved to tell Hermione about. While he was exercising, Hermione pottered about, sewed, read and enjoyed having time to process the enormity of what had happened over the past few months, weeks and days. They walked along the beach and soaked together afterwards in the bath and hot tub. They spent their days chatting and swimming and their nights finding pleasure in each other’s bodies before falling asleep wrapped around each other.

All too soon, it was their last evening, and they took themselves up to the restaurant for a slow, sunset-lit meal together before an early night, scooting their beanbags close together so that they could cuddle as they ate.

“This has been absolute bliss, Fred,” Hermione murmured, leaning towards him for a kiss. “Thank you for making it happen.”

“It was a total pleasure, love. How are you feeling about going home tomorrow? Still wanting to move in with me?”

“More than ever,” she said, sleepily. “I can’t wait to properly begin our life together…”

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

One of the things that Hermione most loved about being magical was the ability to pack quickly and with her wand doing all the work, which meant she was ready to leave the honeymoon cove about ten minutes after she had showered and dressed on Friday morning. Fred was equally eager and, although most of his keenness was because he was about to move in with one of his other halves, a bit of his excitement was down to the fact that he was about to be reunited with George. He found it stressful to be apart from his twin for any length of time and Hermione had already picked up on this the previous afternoon, suggesting that Fred plan on going down to the shop for lunch with George as soon as they arrived home. This idea pleased Fred no end and led to his rewarding Hermione with a mind-blowing orgasm courtesy of his lips and tongue. 

Fred had settled their bill with Phil on Thursday evening, so all that was left was to pack their things and apparate to the flat. Once there, Fred gave Hermione the grand tour and they both stopped, hand-in-hand, when they saw that Molly and Arthur had tied their bonding cord to Fred’s bed as promised. Fred’s parents had also bought the couple new bedding as a wedding present and the bed was beautifully made. A lovely card on the pillow wished them the happiest life together. Hermione took the card into the living room and placed it on the mantlepiece.

“It’s a good job that’s long,” Fred commented. When Hermione turned to see what he meant, she saw a pile of cards and presents that had been left for them by family and friends. They decided to save the present opening for later, though. Hermione’s first job was to send Fred downstairs to spend time with George, telling him to come and find her at The Burrow if she wasn’t back by the time he returned to the flat. She smiled to herself as George sent a wave of happiness through the bond as soon as Fred appeared in the shop. Chuckling, she took some floo powder from the mantlepiece and headed to The Burrow where she found Molly was equally delighted to see her.

“Was it lovely?” Molly smiled at Hermione and raised her eyebrows. “I’ll just put the kettle on and you can tell me all about it.”

“It was totally gorgeous,” Hermione told her. “So relaxing … you and Arthur should go there sometime; I think you’d love it!”

Molly wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure I’d be good at all that relaxing, love, but maybe one day…”

Hermione smiled. “Thank you for the bedding, it was very kind of you, and it’s lovely.”

“Yes, well,” Molly smiled wryly. “There’s another bit to come, but you’ll have to wait til Christmas! And it needed doing; I’m not sure if you ever went in Fred’s room before your wedding, but let’s just say the colour palette wasn’t exactly restful!”

“Really?” Hermione hadn’t ever been in Fred’s bedroom. There would have been no reason for her to go there, so she could only imagine how it had looked before. 

Molly shook her head and lifted her eyes to the ceiling as she moved about the kitchen making the tea. “Perhaps a bit more orange than a new bride with good taste would appreciate.” She brought a tray to the table and leaned in, lowering her voice. “In truth, lovely, I thought if I bought you new bedding then at least that was one thing you wouldn’t have to negotiate.”

“That was very kind.”

Molly made a dismissive noise and dunked a biscuit into her tea. “So everything OK then?”

“Lovely, thank you.” 

Hermione told Molly about how relaxing the honeymoon had been. She outlined some of what they had chatted about and visibly relaxed as she told her mother-in-law how much better she felt just for having a few more certainties in her life. Molly was delighted to hear that and told Hermione as much. 

They went onto their second cup of tea and Hermione told Molly about her connection with George. Molly laughed and rolled her eyes when she heard that George and Angelina had joined them for brunch the next morning. “That’s ten galleons I owe Bill, then. After you left the wedding, he took one look at George’s face and bet me they wouldn’t be able to last the week without finding some way to see each other!”

Hermione smiled. “Well technically, Bill wasn’t correct … it was actually me that wanted to see George!”

Molly raised her eyebrows. “Oh was it now? Interesting. I’ll save that little bit of information; we’ll see where it gets me!”

Having gained permission from Kingsley to tell other Order members about his plans, Hermione also updated Molly on the situation with the marriage law, although she decided not to mention Ginny and Harry’s involvement; that was their story to tell. Molly was, perhaps predictably, concerned that her middle son and newest daughter were being manipulated, but Hermione was quick to reassure her. “Molly, I’m OK with it. Kings knows that I don’t want any more limelight, and he’s promised to keep it to a minimum. But I can’t not help. When I think about how I felt in the minutes between finding out about the upcoming marriage law and finding out that Fred loved me and was prepared to marry me right away to protect me, well I just don’t want anyone else to feel that way. It’s really a small thing to do under the circumstances.”

“Well if you say so, dear.” Molly still looked a bit sceptical, but she wasn’t going to argue. She had more important conversations to have and, knowing that Hermione was probably there to pack, she really needed to get on with it before the younger witch decided to head upstairs. Taking another sip of her tea and trying to sound casual, Molly posed a further question. “And how are things in the bedroom, lovely? I wouldn’t be a good stand-in mum if I didn’t ask you that, especially given the speed of what’s happened with you and Fred.” 

“Oh.” After nearly a week of being close to Fred, Hermione was starting to grow into her own sexuality and was interested to find that she no longer blushed when the topic was raised. But she wasn’t sure how to reply. “Erm, fine?” Hermione didn’t exactly mean for it to sound like a question, because the reality was that things in that department were very much more than fine. They were actually bloody amazing, thank you very much. No, her reticence was related to her uncertainty about having this conversation with the mother of the man who now shared her bed. And who made her feel the most immense pleasure in it (and sometimes out of it) at least twice a day so far. 

Molly had suspected that reticence might be an issue, so was ready with more drastic measures. She stood up from the table, bent down to look in a cupboard, rooted around a bit and then exclaimed in joy. Standing again, she brandished a bottle of firewhisky. “I have a bugger of a time keeping one in reserve with all those boys wandering through my cupboards. It’s nice to find one where I left it for a change.” She poured a generous slug into each mug of tea.

Hermione looked at the clock. “It’s only ten o-clock, mum!”

“Never mind that. There are three occasions on which you will find that it is perfectly acceptable to drink before lunchtime. Christmas day, family crises and mother-daughter sex chats. You enjoy that, Hermione, because I rather hope we’ll have a calm rest of the year and you and I won’t be doing this again until December!”

Hermione obediently took a big gulp of her tea, and then another. She had to admit that the firewhisky felt good and decided that she could happily adopt Molly’s once in a blue moon morning alcohol policy into her own branch of the Weasley family.

Molly took a sip of her tea before speaking again. “Someone needs to make sure you’re alright and on the right track, especially with your own mum not here. Are you sore at all? Do you have questions? Is there anything at all that I can help with?”

Hermione nodded. It was kind of Molly to be concerned; she just wasn’t sure what the etiquette for these sort of things was. Hermione didn’t feel she needed advice but, if she did, she knew that either Ginny or Angelina would be more than happy to talk to her. But she couldn’t exactly tell Molly that. Before she could compose a sentence, Molly had started speaking again.

“If you’d rather not talk to me then I’m sure Fleur would be happy to … I just think it’s important that a woman has someone she can chat with about such things. In my experience, women who don’t have satisfying sex lives don’t tend to start conversations about it themselves, so I happen to think we all owe it to other witches to not be afraid to bring it up, even if it’s a bit uncomfortable or embarrassing at first.” More tea sipping, and then Molly’s face changed to reflect an idea that had crossed her mind. “Here…” She reached behind her and took a picture off the sideboard, showing it to Hermione. “Imagine she’s asking you instead of me. She’s your age, and she doesn’t even know who Fred is… Would you tell her, dear?”

The picture was of Molly when she was about nineteen or twenty; she was laughing, waving at the camera and clearly saying something cheeky to whoever was taking the picture. Hermione spotted the ring on her finger and guessed that the photo Molly would have been newly married, but probably not yet pregnant with Bill, as her tummy was slim in her sundress. 

Hermione felt a little ashamed. Molly was the kindest person, and she had made her point well. Their age difference and the nature of their relationship weren’t exactly the important factors here. Molly only wanted to help, and it really wouldn’t hurt Hermione to have someone to chat to.

Fortifying herself with another big mouthful of the boozy tea, Hermione sat forward and took the photo into her own hands before answering in a soft voice. “I would tell her that it was lovely, Molly. He was incredibly gentle, and he made sure I was ready. Which I was … which was good, because the bonding magic was so much more powerful than either of us had imagined.” She looked into the distance, her softening gaze giving Molly more reassurance than any words could. “This huge glowing light surrounded us both the first time we connected in that way and it was really quite remarkable; quite an amazing feeling, and –” she finally looked directly into Molly’s eyes, “and I’m talking to teenage Molly who doesn’t have any sons, right?”

“That’s right, dear. And who won’t tell anyone else, ever.” 

“OK, well only because you’ve put firewhisky in me and I don’t want you to worry … it was actually bloody marvellous and we did it at least twice every day and I love it. The bond is pulling us together and I don’t know how much of it is that or the intensity of our love but you can be assured that I am very, very satisfied.” 

Molly decided not to mention the way in which Hermione’s pupils widened and her breathing changed when she talked about being with Fred, but the concord between Hermione’s words and her body language pleased her immensely. She clasped her hands together in happiness, but Hermione didn’t let that interrupt her flow. “And you can tell Arthur that he should be really proud of having raised Fred to be such a gentleman but if he ever mentions that to me directly then I may die of embarrassment so please don’t let him.” She drank some more tea as Molly nodded her understanding. “I really appreciate the potion because we want to wait a little while and get to know each other better before we start a family, and if it’s OK with you then I would like to come over sometime and learn to make it, please? And I promise that if I have any questions or worries I will come back to you, but I’m really OK, Molly … mum, thank you so much for caring about me in this way.”

Molly had the most enormous smile on her face as Hermione finished talking. “I’m so glad, dear. I just couldn’t bear the idea of you needing advice or not being satisfied and not having anyone to talk to about how to make that better. You’ll be a long time married, dear, and it’s much easier to sort these things out earlier than later.”

“Thank you. Really. For everything.” Hermione reached forward across the table in a gesture of appreciation.

Molly covered Hermione’s hand with her own. “That’s OK, dear. My Freddie is a good man. One of his teachers once described him as slightly cruel, but I think they misunderstood him. He would never hurt anyone intentionally.” She paused, thinking of the war and Umbridge and Bellatrix, and then modified her statement. “Well, not under normal circumstances.” Hermione hummed in agreement, knowing exactly what Molly meant. “Fred’s very quick-thinking and fast to act, too. But sometimes, his mind or his wand move faster than his sense of reason; he doesn’t always think things through first. I’ll be honest,” she looked directly at Hermione. “I checked with George after I heard he had proposed to you last Saturday morning; I didn’t want the two of you to end up doing something you’d regret, but George said Fred had loved you for years and it wasn’t really sudden at all. I guess mothers don’t know everything after all!”

Hermione’s voice was still soft. “I have loved him for a long time too; we’d just never figured out each other’s feelings.”

“George tempers him, you know?” Hermione was listening carefully; this was stuff she really needed to know. “Calms Fred down, makes him stop and think. You might need to play a similar role, dear, when George isn’t there. But I’m sure you’ll figure that out in your own time. I’m not trying to tell you what to do.”

“I know, mum, it’s OK,” Hermione spoke gently. “I really appreciate this. It’s not like we had the chance to have our relationship develop slowly, over time.”

Molly smiled at the photo, which Hermione was still holding. “You’d have liked young Molly, I think. The two of you would have been friends. She was a lot like Ginny; outspoken and knew her mind. Not so into quidditch, though!” Molly pulled a face. “I had brothers too, so it wasn’t that. No, young Molly preferred to stay on the ground and talk about wizards,” she grinned naughtily at Hermione, and for the first time ever Hermione could see a resemblance to Fred and George, “and if you ever want to chat to her about anything, she’s here for you.”

Hermione stood from her chair and walked around the table to give Molly a hug. “Thank you.” 

Molly rubbed her back. “You’re still so thin, dear. I really do need to fatten you up. I’ll make apple pie for Sunday dinner, I think. With cream; you always seem to have room for that!”

“I do.” Hermione realised that Molly was probably going to chat all morning unless she took the plunge and changed the subject herself. “Mum, I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to go upstairs and get my stuff together so I can take it to the flat. I’m hoping to get moved in today.”

“Of course!” Molly pushed her own chair back from the table. “I didn’t mean to keep you chatting. Just let me know if you need either or both of us to help. Arthur’s outside in his shed.” 

“I will.” Hermione kissed her mother-in-law’s cheek as they left the table and moved in different directions. Hermione headed upstairs to the attic, where her school trunk was stored, and then back to Ginny’s room. It took only a few simple spells to accio everything she owned which was currently at The Burrow and pack it into the trunk. She looked wistfully around Ginny’s bedroom but realised that this wasn’t really a goodbye that she needed to linger over. They would be bound to spend lots of time here and she might even be back to stay overnight at family gatherings. She cast a featherlight charm on her trunk and began to levitate it down the stairs in front of her, soon wishing that Ron or one of his brothers were there. Negotiating the maze of the stairs with the bulky box was an art that she hadn’t yet mastered and she was very glad to see Arthur’s head pop up as he wordlessly raised his own wand and helped her trunk negotiate the final two flights.

Hermione thanked and hugged him, answered his questions about the honeymoon (which were very tame compared to his wife’s, and mostly related to the restaurant and cove) and then sent her trunk through the floo to Fred and George’s flat before following herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I'm in the process of writing a Christmas Fremione in small bites which will be released like an advent calendar in the run-up to the big day, so if you like this pairing and want a bit of daily holiday fluff delivered to your inbox, then feel free to either follow me or look out for the first installment in a few weeks' time! :-)


	14. Misunderstandings, bacon and presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are used as fuel, thank you for helping me keep this going :-)

Arriving back at the flat, Hermione left her trunk in front of the fireplace and then went down to the shop to search for Fred. She found him in the back room, and he was a bit embarrassed that he had got so caught up with his brother and their restocking that he hadn’t made it to The Burrow, but Hermione reassured him that it wasn’t a problem. Fred came back upstairs with her to put in a floo order with The Leaky Cauldron for lunch and so that they could clear wardrobe, drawer and shelf space for her things. He made it very clear that he wasn’t at all attached to whether she wanted to move his stuff.

“Just don’t throw anything out without asking, please!” he called over his shoulder as he carried an armful of her books into the living room.

“I would never do that!” laughed Hermione.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you haven’t found his dirty mags yet!” 

George had followed them upstairs, deciding it was time for his lunch break too. Hermione squeaked with delight and crossed the bedroom to hug him.

“Did you enjoy your sex conversation with mum then?”

Hermione gently tapped his chest as she left his arms. “You picked that up?”

“Only a bit,” Fred laughed. “Between us, we knew you were at The Burrow and we got a sense of embarrassment and a lot of mum chatting, so we put two and two together and made seventeen.”  
“Well on this occasion, you were right!” 

It was interesting, because she and Fred had realised over the past few days that the bond link wasn’t always a direct and clear line of communication. It was pretty fantastic during kissing and cuddling and sex, because their ability to feel what each other was feeling when they were physically close served to enhance their sensations. On an everyday basis, however, it wasn’t always easy to interpret the complexity of human emotion. It was like a tool, Fred had suggested as they lay in the sun one evening when they had been at the cove. Like their wands or one of Arthur’s beloved muggle screwdrivers. It was well designed to do a specific job, but that didn’t mean that one didn’t need to learn and hone the art of using it. 

Hermione had looked across at him with a sense of wonder when he had said that. She had always been attracted to the way that Fred thought – which was rather different to her own approach – and it was one of the things that made him stand out from the crowd for her. But as she spent more and more time with him, she found herself revelling in the way in which his mind put things together. He seemed to invent new ways of thinking and approaches to things with the same ease with which he (and George) came up with new product or prank ideas and layered and interwove complex magic in order to bring them to fruition.

Hermione’s appreciation for Fred’s way of thinking didn’t always meant that she could follow, understand or predict it, though. Their first significant misunderstanding occurred on the Sunday morning, exactly a week after their wedding day. 

The Friday and Saturday had gone really well. Hermione had enjoyed a productive moving in day and then the experience of a normal Saturday with the twins. This, as advertised, had involved sharing a cooked (mostly by George) breakfast, after which the boys took turns working in the shop before George went off to watch Angelina play quidditch. Hermione went down to the shop for a few hours and set herself to work making bases for glitterbubble products in the back room while Fred entertained customers. She found that she rather enjoyed this task and listened to songs on the boys’ radio as she pottered about between the recipe book, a series of cauldrons and a happy mess of ingredients scattered across the counter. 

George returned to the shop alone at about five o’clock. The match had gone well and Ange’s team had won, but one of her team mates had just got engaged and she and her friends had decided to have a girls’ night out in muggle London. So George joined Fred and Hermione for an evening of laughter and take-away, which they ate in the roof garden which sat on top of the boys’ flat. 

Hermione hadn’t even known it was there; she and Fred hadn’t got that far on her tour, so she was delighted to discover the open space, high above Diagon Alley, in which a few fruit trees and wooden planters decorated a covered patio area. There wasn’t much furniture, but Arthur and Molly had given George and Fred an old wooden table and bench set from The Burrow and they had requisitioned a small but usable grill that Phil was throwing out. The whole area could use a bit of sprucing up, but Hermione could see that it had considerable potential. She had visions of stringing fairy lights through the trees and planting some fragrant herbs which would scent the air and which Fred and George might be able to use in some of their products. 

They had all gone to bed at a relatively early hour for a Saturday night and, on the Sunday morning, Hermione woke up early with terrible cramps. She had lost track of time and had forgotten that her period was due. Slipping out of the bed without waking Fred, she went to the bathroom where she tried to sort herself out as best she could in a flat that had previously only housed male occupants. Sore, tense and feeling like she didn’t really want to deal with the rest of the world, Hermione took herself to the sofa and laid down, closing her eyes against the pain. She was vaguely aware of George coming out of his bedroom but couldn’t summon the energy to engage with him. 

“Owwww!” A couple of minutes later, Hermione wasn’t pleased at all when Fred launched himself to land right on top of her, wanting to surprise her with a sexy cuddle. In pain and feeling a bit annoyed, she tried to push him off, but he weighed a fair bit more than Hermione did, and she had allowed her wand to drop from her fingers onto the carpet when she had lain down. 

“For fuck sake, Freddie!” George marched across the flat’s living room to take control of the situation. Raising his own wand, George quickly levitated Fred off Hermione and stood him upright.

“Oi!” said Fred, not at all sure he liked the way in which George was now scooping Hermione into his lap and adding a heating charm to a small cushion before placing it on her tummy and summoning a patchwork throw to cover them both.

“Is that better love?” he asked her, and Hermione nodded her agreement and spoke a quiet thank you into his shoulder.

George looked at his brother and spoke quietly. “Honestly, Fred! I know you’re not really experienced in the ways of women, but even you should know better than to jump on a witch who spends fifteen minutes in the loo before flushing it twice and then laying herself on the sofa!” 

Fred looked chastised. “I’m sorry, love,” he mumbled. “I really didn’t think. I will pay more attention in future, I promise… I felt you focusing on that area through the bond and I thought you were turned on … and you’re not, are you? You’re in pain.” He looked crestfallen as he sunk onto the other end of the sofa. “I’m so sorry...” 

George turned back to Hermione. “You’ll have to forgive him, love. He’s never had a proper girlfriend before. Been mooning after this Granger woman for years, so he’s not yet properly trained in all of the boyfriend arts.”

Hermione smiled a bit at that. She wasn’t really cross with him; just sore.

“I feel really bad, love.” Fred’s eyes were sad as he reached for her hand.

Hermione gave it a squeeze. “It’s OK, Fred. I just wasn’t expecting it, and my tummy hurts quite a bit.”

Fred nodded. “I get it now.” He reached out his other arm as well. “Can I be the one to cuddle you now, or are you leaving me for Georgie?”

“Never,” she said, trying to sit up more so that she could crawl over to Fred. But George was in full knight-in-shining-armour mode and wasn’t going to allow that. Carefully, he took her weight in his arms and lifted her across to Fred, placing her gently in his brother’s lap, ensuring she had the heated cushion and tucking her back under the blanket.

She pulled a face that neither of the men could quite read. “I’m not a child, you know!”

“We know,” they said in unison as she snuggled further into Fred. 

“But you deserve to be looked after today,” George added. “So cuddle Freddie and tell me what you’d like for breakfast. I’m at your service. Pancakes, bacon sarnie, omelette, full English? I stocked the fridge before you came back.”

Hermione thought about it for a moment. “A bacon sandwich would be lovely, thank you. With some lettuce and mayonnaise, if that’s possible?”

George bowed to her and then looked directly at Fred, pointing at his brother. “OK, so here’s what I know about witches and their periods. It feels like being kicked in the nuts, but it lasts for much longer.” Fred winced, and snuggled Hermione a bit more tightly as George continued. “Be extra nice; ask your witch what would help, and then do it without argument even if you don’t understand why she wants it. And if she doesn’t know what she wants then give her lots of stroking, be calm, run baths, don’t argue, especially don’t make any ‘time of the month’ comments – because they are, to quote Ms Johnson, ‘inappropriate and offensive’ – and always offer to make hot chocolate. It’s essential.” He looked back at Hermione. “Bacon butty with leaves and mayo. Back in a few minutes, love.”

“He’s very well educated,” Hermione whispered into Fred’s ear. “I’m impressed with Angelina.”

With the heating charm taking the edge off the pain, Hermione was able to explain to Fred how she felt and what she needed. “I usually only have cramps for the first day or so, but they can get really bad. And your mum always has pain potion for Ginny and I in the loo at The Burrow, but I forgot to ask on Friday if I could bring some with me … I just didn’t think, with everything going on.”

“Well that’s not a problem then; either George or I can pop through and grab some. Is it urgent?”

“I am quite sore,” Hermione confessed.

“Right, well do you want to wait here for George and I’ll nip to mum’s really quickly?” Fred still felt guilty and was glad to have something helpful to do. So when Hermione said that that would be great, he got up, tossed green powder into the fire and disappeared on his mission. Four minutes later, the fire roared again and he was back with a small brown bottle in one hand and a sausage on a fork in the other. Popping himself on the arm of the sofa, he passed the bottle to Hermione and then offered her a bite of his sausage. Laughing, she shook her head. 

“I’ll wait for my bacon sarnie, thanks. Was your mum OK with that?”

“Of course, love, though she says you’re not excused from dinner tonight.”

“I’ll be good for that, I’m sure. A few hours on the sofa and I’ll be fine. Feel free to go out or down to the shop or whatever you want; I’ll be OK.”

Before Fred could reply, the floo flared up once more and, this time, Ginny stepped through in her pyjamas just as George came out of the kitchen with a plate of bacon sandwiches in each hand.  
“Oh brilliant, thanks George,” said Ginny, as she took them both from him, correctly assessing that the one with salad was for Hermione and placing the other one on her own lap once she had sat on the sofa next to her friend. Lifting the edge of the throw, she made sure Hermione was comfortable before covering her own legs and tucking in to her second breakfast. George was nonplussed. The other plate of sandwiches had been for Fred, but he simply turned around and went back into the kitchen to make more.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

“Spill, then!”

Hermione shifted slightly in order to get more comfortable on the sofa before she turned back to the grinning redheaded woman beside her. Ginny had produced a bar of chocolate from her robes almost as soon as Fred and George had disappeared back to The Burrow to follow Hermione’s suggestion that they get some flying time in together while she and their sister caught up. Ginny broke the bar into chunks for ease of snacking as Hermione answered. 

“Oh, it was amazing, Ginny…” she trailed off, thinking of their honeymoon she had shared with her man. They had now been living at the flat for two days and, tummy cramps aside, she was still floating on a cloud of Fred-induced bliss.

“The cove? The sex? The bond completion?”

“All of it.” Hermione sighed. “I never thought of myself as a romantic, and I’m still not sure that’s an accurate description, but it was blissful … probably the most relaxing few days I’ve ever experienced.”  
“Wow. So you’re happy with your decision?”

“Absolutely. It still seems like a dream. I can’t believe that I’ve ended up with this wonderful man who I feel like I’ve loved forever and who treats me so well…”

“Well who knew?! That one of the terrible twins would end up being married to a prefect, and be so good at making you happy!”

Hermione’s eyes glittered with laughter. “It’s fab, isn’t it?!”

“Totally. Not least because you’re finally my sister now.” She reached out her hand and Hermione took it, giving Ginny’s a squeeze.

“We saw Kingsley at the restaurant last week, did Harry tell you?” Hermione wanted to ask Ginny about her feelings about the marriage law and the question of her agreeing to a public wedding but wasn’t entirely sure where to begin.

“You’re wondering whether we’re signing up to his plan?”

“Something like that,” Hermione nodded.

Ginny pulled a face. “I’m mostly OK with it.” She tipped her head from one side to the other, contemplating her feelings before concluding. “Getting used to the idea.”

“I wondered if you might be.” She popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth and savoured it for a moment before continuing. “Fred seemed to think you’d be really up for the big public wedding thing, but I wasn’t so sure.”

“I love the idea of a big wedding,” Ginny spoke slowly. “Though after yours and Fred’s – which was just gorgeous – I can see the appeal of something smaller, too. I’m a bit unsure about it being so publicly big, though, and what that might mean.” 

“Because of the lack of privacy?”

“Yeah. Yours was so intimate and lovely…”

“Gin, don’t sign up to anything you don’t want … you’re only going to do this once!”

Ginny nodded. “It’s OK, ‘Mione. Thing is, I also understand the value of it and what it stands for. And it feels like it’s the last bit of the battle, if that doesn’t sound too weird.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. “I know just what you mean. Fred and I lay in bed talking about it – what he was asking of us – after we got back from the restaurant, and that’s how we feel too.”

“Well I’ve told Kingsley that we’ll do it, as long as it’s on my terms. I’ve said I want total control for Harry and I on the planning, a completely private rehearsal dinner and the photographers can only stay til an hour after the evening ball begins. Other things to be negotiated. And absolute secrecy on the honeymoon; I do not need them turning up at that!”

“That sounds very fair … you’re sure you don’t just want to elope though?!”

Ginny shook her head, laughing. “I need to woman up and accept that I’m marrying The Boy Who Lived, and that decision isn’t going to be compatible with a totally quiet life. But more important is the fact that, the way Kingsley tells it, we have a chance to use our happy day to help avoid the marriage law. And given how it could have affected you, how can I say no?”

Hermione opened her mouth as if to debate the issue, but Ginny protested, both verbally and with a hand on her friend’s arm. “You know I’m not that kind of person, ‘Mione, any more than you are. I don’t imagine you’re a hundred per cent happy with the idea of you and Freddie being the poster couple, but I know you’ve said yes. Sometimes there are bigger things at stake.”

“Yeah,” Hermione knew exactly what she meant.

“And don’t think I won’t have a bloody marvellous time spending Ministry money on dresses and trying thirty-seven different kinds of cake! Mum will enjoy it no end as well, and she deserves that. No, I am going to put my heart and soul into doing it this way and we’ll have a wonderful time.”

“I’m so proud of you, Gin…”

The younger witch smiled. “Does that mean you’d like to be my bridesmaid then? Or matron of honour, or whatever it’s called when you’re already married?”

“I’d love to. As long as you know I’m not into all the planning and frilliness.”

“Ha!” laughed Ginny. “That’s why I have Mum; you just need to turn up, walk up and down the aisle and tell me where to get that bubbly stuff for my hen party!”

“Well that’s easy, though the prosecco shopping was George and Charlie, I think! Have you picked a date yet?”

“No. At first, Kings was all for wanting to do it right away. We went to have lunch with him the day after you met him, I think, and he was talking about the end of August.”

“Gods…”

“Exactly. He’s clearly never planned a wedding before! Well, I know we did yours overnight, but there was a bit of a scale difference. And Harry pointed out that it might be even better to maximise publicity if we had a longer planning time. More time for the press to speculate about the dress, for us to carefully release snippets of information and all that. Kingsley went for that idea in a big way, and we don’t have an exact date agreed, but Harry and I have promised to make a decision soon.”

As Ginny spoke, the floo roared, and Fred stepped out of it in his old quidditch robes. 

Hermione’s breath caught. She had forgotten how good he looked in those. Ginny didn’t miss her reaction, and caught her friend’s eye with a grin before turning her head away so that her brother wouldn’t see her face.

“Alright Freddie?” Ginny asked. 

“I am fabulous, Gin. In every sense of the word. Just came through to do this,” and he walked to the sofa and bent down to apply a soft kiss to Hermione’s lips as he knelt on the carpet in front of her. “Just realised it’s been exactly a week since I bonded with you, love … wanted to tell you that this has been the happiest week of my life. I love you, Hermione Granger-Weasley.”

Hermione moved her right hand to his face and caressed his cheek, which was ruddy from flying. “I love you too, Fred Granger-Weasley.” She leaned in for another kiss.

“Do I need to go back through and leave you to it?” Ginny teased from beside them.

“Nope, Fred knows we’re only kissing and cuddling today,” Hermione smiled.

Fred sat between the two women, putting an arm around each of them. “That was so fun! Thanks for being OK with me having Georgie time!”

Before Hermione could reply, Ginny had bounced away from her brother. “Oh Fred!” she exclaimed. “You really smell. Go and shower now, please!”

Fred laughed, raising both of his hands in the air. “OK, I know when I’m not wanted.” He leaned forward to kiss Hermione one more time, and then stood. 

As he disappeared towards the bathroom, Ginny stood. “I’d better go, anyway,” she told her friend. “I promised Harry we’d go for a walk before we go over to mum’s tonight. We’ve not had much alone time together lately, and that’s going to be an ongoing issue with all this wedding stuff.”

“Let me know if it becomes an issue and I can help, Gin. Even if you just need to come over to hide away from the madness.”

“I will, thank you. What are you and Fred going to do this afternoon?”

Hermione waved her hand towards the still wrapped gifts and cards. “Unwrap and enjoy presents and write some thank you letters, I think. I needed to go to the owlery tomorrow anyway, as I want to write to Charlie, so that’ll give me something to do.”

“Tell him hi from me? And feel free to fill him in on our bit of the marriage law gossip; He’s always complaining about being the last to know anything!” 

“I will. Thanks for coming over!”

After Ginny had disappeared in a blaze of flames, Hermione decided she felt comfy enough to make a tray of tea and biscuits, which she then brought back to the living room in readiness for Fred’s return. They then enjoyed a happy hour of opening presents and cards, giggling together at the differences in their approach. Fred was keen to get into each new card or gift as soon as possible and then toss the used wrapping paper into the air so he could blast it into flames with his wand and then vanish it before it hit the carpet. Hermione, on the other hand, was a much neater gift opener. She wanted to go more slowly and ensure that she was carefully cataloguing who had sent what, in readiness for their writing of thank you letters and cards. They enjoyed playfully bantering about their different approaches, but Hermione at least achieved the creation of her list. “I know you and George need to get back into things at the shop,” she told him. “So if you’d like, then I’ll write the cards and you can just add your name to them when I’m done?”

“That would be brill, love. As long as you’re sure? I don’t want to saddle you with everything domestic, but we really do need to get our heads around restocking and building things up again. It’s still quiet for now, because it’s summer, but we’re trying to get ahead for the back to school rush and then Samhain and Guy Fawkes and Christmas seem to come one after the other!”

“I know,” Hermione patted his arm. “I’m OK with it, and I want to support you to be able to get on with things at the shop, Fred. Every day is a day off for me at the moment, so it’s kind of nice to have something to do! And I like writing and organising things.”

Fred leaned in for a kiss. “Tell me what you usually like to do on your days off, love?”

Hermione looked up at Fred and shook her head in wonder. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“What’s that?” Leaning forward, he nuzzled her neck and gently sucked her skin before licking it better.

Hermione leaned back slightly as she spoke, allowing him better access to her skin. “Well we’re married and bonded forever and even though I’ve known you for years there’s so much that we still have to learn about each other.” She wound her fingers into his hair as he continued to nip at her. “You didn’t know how much I hated baked beans til after we were married, and I never knew that you and George had an actual bond that affected you so much. And … oh that feels good...”

A grin crossed Fred’s face. He was never going to get tired of turning Hermione on and feeling her response through their bond, but for now he really was keen to hear about her hopes and plans and he had promised not to push for more than a kiss and a cuddle today, so he ceased his ministrations and sat up. “Go on,” he encouraged her.

“Well… I appreciate that you probably won’t agree, but my idea of a great day off at the moment would be pretty much what we were doing on our honeymoon … some time to read a book, some time with my cross stitch, a few cups of tea, a nice supper, a couple of glasses of wine and then an early night with you.”

“Actually, that sounds like a lovely day.”

“Really?” Hermione looked deeply into Fred’s eyes, trying to discern whether he was teasing.

“Yes, really,” he told her, hugging her to him more tightly and tucking her head under his chin. “The difference between us is that I’d do that for a few days and really enjoy it, like we did on our honeymoon, but then one day I would get up and I’d need to run around or have a fly and see people or invent something or go out somewhere new. I need action and novelty. Whereas I imagine you could manage longer without that?”

She considered the question. “After everything that’s happened over the last year or so, I have been enjoying having some slow days,” she admitted, “although –” she broke off and played with the hem of the Weird Sisters tee shirt that Fred had put on after his shower.

“Although what?”

“Well … it’s not that I wasn’t enjoying the last few weeks before we heard about the marriage law, when I was just at your mum and dad’s not having to do anything, but even before that Saturday morning I was starting to feel myself getting a bit itchy too, you know, to do something … to think about a career. And obviously the excitement of the last week has made me put that thought aside, but I’ve noticed it starting to come back again once we’re back to reality.”

Fred nodded. “I don’t think many people can sit around and truly do nothing for any length of time. It’s important to have a purpose.”

“Exactly. And I now need to figure out what mine is. At least for now. I don’t expect to do the same thing forever, but it would be nice to figure out what’s next.”

“It’ll come.” Fred’s voice was reassuring, and his hands stroked Hermione. “Just give it time.” He kissed her temple. “And in the meantime, you can hang out here or at The Burrow or come down to the shop more like you did yesterday. I’ll teach you how to make canary creams?” He watched her face, not entirely sure whether she would think that a fun activity or a misuse of her brain, but he was pleased to see that she smiled.

“That sounds like fun,” Hermione told him with a squeeze of his hand. “I might just do that once I’ve written all the cards! I want to catch up with some people this week as well though, and I’d really like to spend some time on the garden, and I have another project I want to work on too.”

“Really? What’s that, love?”

She kissed his lips before answering. “I’m going to try and find the woman of Charlie’s dreams.”


	15. A week in the life of a newly bonded witch

Hermione’s first full week enjoying life as a married witch in the wizarding world was satisfyingly busy and, on the whole, very fulfilling, with a couple of minor glitches. 

Sunday dinner at The Burrow had been a delight. Hermione had told Fred that she wanted to go early; there were so many Weasleys to thank for the parts they played in making their wedding go so well, and she wanted to spend time with each of them. But that didn’t go quite as planned. Within minutes of her arrival, she had been enlisted by Arthur who claimed that he needed help wiring a muggle plug, but who really seemed to just want some company in his shed over a cup of tea. Hermione felt a bit frustrated at not being able to use her time as she had wanted, but she caught herself and realised that Arthur had done as much to help them as anyone and yet was often the last person to ask for anything. So, with a deep breath, she followed him to the shed, settled into her appointed armchair, summoned a butterbeer from the fridge and let Arthur chat to her about his work and ask questions about the honeymoon while he tinkered with wires. 

She was ready to move on when Bill arrived in the shed, though. With a grin and a wink, he gave her a hug and told her that Fleur would love to see her in the house. “Besides, Dad,” he announced as he sat in his own armchair, “we can’t have her drinking all the beer!” Hermione was touched at being able to witness the relationship between Arthur and his eldest son, and she gave Bill a wave before having second thoughts and popping her head back around the door.

“Bill, what’s the best way of contacting Charlie? He said to owl, but is he generally good at replying?”

“He will be if it’s you and if you’re doing what I think you’re doing,” Bill answered cryptically. When Hermione raised her eyebrows, he continued in a low voice. “He told me in the pub one evening last Christmas. I was taking the piss about mum getting on to him about his single status. He’d had an awful journey and had downed three firewhiskies straight off, so he spilled the truth without thinking. I’m almost as ignorant as he is about muggle communications, but if there’s anything I can do, just say.”

“I will,” she said. “Thanks, Bill. It’ll all be down to what I can do with the little information he has. Fingers crossed…” Bill looked confused, and she laughed. “It’s a muggle saying, don’t worry.” She gave both of the men a wave through the dusty window as she crossed the garden to the house.

As other family members arrived, Hermione handed out all of her and Fred’s thank you cards, which also doubled up as invitations to their first pizza night in the roof garden of the flat. “We want to do something nice to say thank you to everyone for giving us a spectacular Weasley wedding,” Fred explained, as everyone had finally gathered around the table. “So we’re inviting you all over in a couple of weeks for muggle pizza and drinks.” 

Harry and Ron were particularly excited about this turn of events. Harry had never been allowed to try pizza at the Dursleys’, although Dudley had often enjoyed a large one all to himself, and Ron had eaten a slice once and loved it but didn’t know how to order it for himself. Hermione was keen to be able to do something for her adoptive family that was, at least to them, a bit out of the ordinary. She still missed her own parents though and, now that the craziness of planning her fast marriage was in the past, she found her thoughts turning more and more to her birth family.

The Sunday roast was as tasty as ever and the only slight downside was the result of George and Fred’s unannounced testing of a new product. They had a tendency to take something along to test on an unsuspecting subject over dinner every now and again, but Molly had become tired of having her meals tampered with. Bill’s curse breaking training had been enlisted – again – and put to use on an undetectable deflecting charm which he had placed over the entire table. It meant that any charm added to food by someone sitting at the table would bounce back and affect those who had brought it instead of the intended recipient. Unfortunately for Hermione, there was no provision to protect an innocent party who might be wedged firmly in between the perpetrators and so, like Fred and George, she spent the following twenty-four hours with a voice which varied in pitch with every sentence that she spoke. 

Molly gave the three of them a care package as they left The Burrow. She passed the freezer bag to George, telling them, “it’s meals for the week, and there’s easily enough for four if Angelina wants to join you.” 

She received a loud kiss on the cheek from Hermione – who was choosing not to speak more than necessary – and then a sandwich-style hug from her two tallest sons in response. By contrast, they were happy to squeak and bellow as a demonstration of their new ‘throat bloat’ sweets. “Get away with you,” Molly joked, swatting at them each in turn, but it was clear to see how much she enjoyed their attention.

When Monday morning dawned, Hermione’s goal for the day was to owl the rest of the thank you letters to their friends as well as writing to Charlie. Having not made it to her coffee shop on the Sunday, she took herself to Diagon Alley through the twins’ shop – wordlessly, as her voice still wasn’t back to normal and she refused to allow them to turn her into a product demonstration – and spent a pleasant hour or so trying hazlenut flavoured coffee and writing to her brother-in-law. 

Sipping her drink, Hermione decided to give Charlie a few details of the honeymoon but, wary that someone else might pick up and read her letter, told him that he would have to be satisfied with knowing that she had taken his advice and would tell him more only when she could do so in person and in private. She then went on to describe the cove, the situation with the Ministry and Kingsley’s plan and, finally, her plan to begin trying to track down Lauren over the coming days. ‘I want to double check that you’re happy for me to go ahead with my search?’ she wrote. ‘And if there’s anything you’d rather I didn’t say or tell her if I do manage to get in touch, then write back and tell me now. I won’t do anything til I hear back from you, because I want to make sure that I only do what you want me to.’

Charlie wrote back the following day, his letter arriving as she was taking a bath. Hermione had quickly figured out that the best way of maximising morning harmony in the flat was to either get up a half hour earlier than Fred and George so that she could enjoy her shower first without holding them up or, if her plans didn’t involve leaving the house in the morning, she found it was better to stay out of their way and in her pyjamas until they had gone downstairs to the shop. On those days, she would often enjoy a bath, and she was working her way through her own set of glittery bath products like the ones Molly had given her access to in the run-up to her wedding. 

When she did lay in the bath or otherwise have time to herself, Hermione found herself adopting Fred and George’s habit of coming up with new ideas for the shop. She had noted that, even though George had used a basket to hold the collection of Wonder Witch products that he gave to his mum for her birthday, it hadn’t occurred to them to gather their popular glitterbubble products into gift-wrapped sets for customers to buy. Hermione was confident that, if they did this, they could easily increase their sales, especially as the holidays neared and people were looking for easy presents for family and friends. 

She was contemplating different wrapping options and how muggle materials might be combined with magic when she heard a soft tapping on the open window. Deciding that she had bather for long enough, Hermione got out of the bath, wrapping herself in a large fluffy towel before heading to the living room. A small brown owl was carrying a longish letter from Charlie which was wrapped in a note, advising Hermione of the owl’s name (Elena) and that she would really appreciate a good meal and an overnight rest before the long flight back to Romania, if Hermione could please arrange that.

“Of course we can, Elena,” Hermione told her, opening the window wider. “Come in here; you can settle anywhere you like and I’ll look for some treats. I’ll leave the window open in case you want to fly to the roof garden though; there’s a tree or two up there that you might enjoy.” 

Unsure about where the owl treats were kept, Hermione tried to use the bond to find out from Fred. She was fairly sure that she had done a decent job of visualising Elena but, try as she might, she couldn’t interpret Fred’s response. 

After a few minutes of searching, the door from the shop to the flat opened slightly and she heard George’s voice. “They’re behind the charms encyclopaedia, to keep them away from the puffs, but if that’s Elena then she already knows.” He laughed as he emerged into the room and saw the little owl pecking at the shelf, clearly frustrated with the delay on Hermione’s part.

“Sorry!” Hermione laughed, pulling the book out and shaking several treats into the palm of her hand so that Elena could take her pick. “Look, I’ll put the rest here,” she sprinkled them onto the shelf, “and then you can decide when you’re hungry and what you’d like.”

Because she accepted George’s invitation to go downstairs and participate in canary cream making, it wasn’t until the afternoon that Hermione settled into one of the garden benches, while Elena snoozed on a branch of a small apple tree. She had nipped to a muggle charity shop after her trip to the owlery the previous day to buy some coloured cushions and throws to brighten up the garden, arranging herself amongst them before opening Charlie’s letter. Hermione eagerly devoured the contents, discovering more than she had previously known about the rhythm of his life in Romania and his love of the dragons. He had assured her that he had no secrets from Lauren – other than the obvious, which was his magical status – and that Hermione had carte blanche in her communications. 

‘Do whatever you think is best, sweets!’ Charlie had written. ‘Your judgement is better than mine here. If you need to tell her about my being a wizard (if that’s allowed? I don’t know the rules?), then that’s fine by me, though I don’t know how that would go. It’s been such a long time and it’s a crazy thing to tell someone who doesn’t know about our world. I trust you, love. Whatever will be, will be. Without you, I have no chance of finding her, so even someone as bad at arithmancy as I am can see that anything you do gives me more chance than I have now. Feel free tell her how I feel if you think it’ll help. I was nuts to not follow her when we said goodbye and I’ve thought of her every day since. I’d do anything to see her again, even just as friends. I know it’s mushy, but it’s the truth. Thanks, love. You’re the best sister-in-law. But don’t tell Fleur!’

The rest of Charlie’s letter covered more practical issues and he also reminded Hermione that he had some leave due, adding that his boss was hassling him to take it. He asked whether he could come and stay with her and Fred and George for a few days whether or not she was successful in her search, explaining that he didn’t always want to base himself at The Burrow now that he was older, and Hermione found herself liking that idea a lot. 

Spurred on by his words, she decided to spend the next day visiting her parents’ old house to pick up some of the muggle things that she would need in her search for Lauren. Then, she settled back onto the bench but had only rested her eyes for two minutes when Fred’s head popped up from the flat below.

“You alright, love?”

Hermione flicked her sunglasses back down over her eyes. “I’m fine, sweetheart, thank you. Why?”

Fred’s eyes widened and his heart swelled with love. Although he (and George and Charlie and most of the other Weasleys) used a range of terms of endearment when addressing Hermione, this was the first time that she had ever used one to address him – or, as far as he knew, anyone else. He knelt in front of her and gave her a soft kiss, weaving his long fingers into her hair. “Because you felt a bit melancholy through the bond, and we’re not busy so I’ve come to check.”

“I’m OK, Fred. Thank you. Charlie’s letter made me think about lost love a bit, and it also made me realise I need to go to my mum and dad’s house tomorrow to pick up my laptop for my research. And that made me feel sad, but I’m OK.” 

Fred prescribed and administered a cuddle, offering to take her back downstairs to keep her busy, but Hermione shook her head. “I’m OK. It’s nearly five, anyway, and I thought I should get something out of your mum’s care package for dinner?”

“Oh, good plan, love,” he agreed. “We’ll be up soon. It’s such a nice afternoon and you’re making it lovely up here; we could eat here if you like?”

Hermione agreed that that sounded like a great idea, and in the end George took his and Angelina’s half of the shepherd’s pie to Angelina’s flat, leaving Fred and Hermione to spend a quiet evening together. Before he apparated off the roof, the younger twin reminded them that they didn’t need to worry about dinner tomorrow. “It’s date night!” he said gleefully. “How about if I tell Phil to expect us about six thirty?”

Hermione was so grateful for the timing of date night, which turned out to be the perfect end to a stressful and upsetting Wednesday. She had declined Fred’s offer of company, conscious that he and George needed to be in the shop as much as possible, but when she reached her childhood home she wished she had accepted. It was painful to be there and to have no idea whether her parents would ever return. She took the opportunity to carry out some boring but useful muggle home maintenance tasks; dusting cobwebs, wiping worksurfaces and flushing the loos as well as gathering her laptop and the solar charger that she would need to run it in the magical world. She also picked up some strings of solar fairy lights and a few outside ornaments to brighten up the roof garden at the flat, knowing that her parents would be delighted to give them to her and the boys, but she was keen not to dwell there. Feeling lower than she had for a while, Hermione took herself to her usual hidden corner of the back garden to apparate back to the flat as soon as she could. 

When she returned, she went down to the shop to collect extended hugs from both of the twins, who had been with her in spirit and sending love through their shared bond throughout her trip. “Come with me,” said George, leading her to the backroom by the hand. “We’ve saved you some pygmy puffs who need feeding and brushing; that’s guaranteed to cheer anyone up after a rubbish day!”

And it did. As did the evening that the four of them spend at Phil’s restaurant. It wasn’t quite as warm as it had been during the week of Fred and Hermione’s honeymoon although, as Fred pointed out, “this IS Devon!” and it gave them an excuse to cuddle up as they chatted. Hermione and Angelina found themselves on an unofficial product consultation panel, as the boys had come up with several ideas which they wanted to run past their favourite witches. Most were good, although Hermione did veto a quill which allowed faster copying of homework. “It’s not going to help anyone in the long run,” she told the laughing men. She spent the rest of the evening trying to work out whether it was a serious suggestion or if they had thrown it in there just to wind her up. Her interpretation of the energies that she could feel through their bond pointed to it being the latter.

After the stress of her Wednesday trip, Thursday and Friday were relatively calm days for Hermione. Each morning, she would say goodbye to the boys as they headed to the shop and she embarked upon research. Charlie had given her a business card which contained Lauren’s full name and work address, but Hermione had quickly confirmed her suspicion that the reason Charlie’s friend couldn’t track her down easily was because she had moved on from the university she was working at when they had met. 

That didn’t deter Hermione though. She was good at research, and she enjoyed it, too. Once or twice a day, she would pop down to the shop or into Diagon Alley for a proper break, and she was also managing to catch up with other aspects of her life. She had a lunch meeting with Kingsley, in which he explained that the Wizengamot had agreed to his new plan in principle and he felt very confident but, as was normal for the Wizengamot, nothing was going to happen overnight. They agreed to meet again the following week so that he could update Hermione again. And on Thursday evening, in a further effort to cheer herself up, she took Fred and George on a surprise trip into muggle London to see a film. She made them put their wands into her handbag before they approached the cinema and was very glad she had done so when she saw how they reacted to the events on the screen, but they loved the experience and begged to make it a regular event.

So by five o’clock on Friday evening, Hermione Granger-Weasley was feeling very satisfied. She was fully unpacked and her laundry was up to date. (Fred’s wasn’t. She had cheerfully taken Angelina’s advice on that one!) She had strung fairy lights, planted herbs and generally made a great start on turning the roof garden into a cosy outdoor space that they could all enjoy. Fred had popped up to the flat earlier with a bag of fresh groceries and made a salad which they were going to have with a lasagne that Molly had sent. George had agreed to be in charge of setting the table and putting the food in the oven, so she could relax and enjoy doing a bit of cross stitching in the early evening sun. 

Best of all, Hermione was ninety-nine point five per cent sure that she had tracked down Charlie’s Lauren and was now in possession of her current email address.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think :-) I know this and the last chapter were a bit less exciting than some of the others, but sometimes less exciting things have to happen in order to set the scene for the important events! :-)


	16. Dear Lauren...

Hermione clicked the ‘new email’ button and carefully typed the unfamiliar address. She had spent quite some time wondering what to say in her first approach to the woman she so desperately wanted to meet, and had decided that something polite, friendly and to the point was probably best. 

“Dear Lauren,” she typed, speaking out loud as she did. “Or dear Dr Bennett? No, Dear Lauren, I think. From the way Charlie talks about her, she’s not that formal. Right, Dear Lauren…”

“You don’t know me, but my second favourite brother-in-law really loves you…” said her husband in an impersonation of her voice as he walked out of the bathroom, running his fingers through his damp hair to arrange it the way he wanted before he used a drying charm.

“Fred!” she reprimanded. 

“What?” he asked innocently. “It’s true!”

“Which bit?” Hermione tipped her head to one side. “Because I don’t remember ranking your brothers…”

“Ah! So he does really love her then? You didn’t challenge that!” Fred looked pleased with himself.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “That’s for him to say, not me. And I wouldn’t have told you about it if I thought you would tease him.”

“Seriously?” Her husband looked surprised and extended his right hand towards her. “Hi. I’m Fred Granger-Weasley. Teasing is my middle name.”

Hermione snorted and ignored the proffered hand.

“Well Fred Teasing Granger-Weasley, why don’t you make yourself useful and put the kettle on while I decide what to write next? Or put some clothes on, though I have to say I quite like you in that...”

“Just be your usual lovely direct self,” Fred called over his shoulder as he headed toward the kitchen. 

Hermione watched him admiringly. He had left the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist and it didn’t leave much to her imagination. Since they had got together and got married (all within about 36 hours, so she was aware their relationship hadn’t had a normal progression, whatever that might look like), they had made love almost every day, often into the night and sometimes again when they woke. Over the past few days, she had started to become more adventurous as well. No longer feeling that they needed to be in bed, Hermione was reaping the benefits of Fred’s creative imagination when it came to lovemaking and also trying out some of Charlie’s advice about taking the lead. 

It had begun with her realising that she enjoyed the excitement of exploring other locations within the flat (when George wasn’t around, of course) and, lately, she was getting turned on by joining Fred in making a list of other places in which they would like to surprise each other. She had also tried what Charlie had described as ‘the bossy approach’ once she and Fred were alone after their lasagne dinner the previous evening, and it couldn’t have gone better. The bond between them was strong, and it was at its peak. But bond or no bond, Hermione didn’t think she would ever grow tired of being with Fred in that way. Especially when he looked that good straight out of the shower.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and went back to tapping away on the keyboard, pausing now and again to consider her next sentence. Hermione’s mini laptop was her one big muggle indulgence. Unless you counted good dark chocolate, which she didn’t. Since discovering solar chargers, Hermione had been delighted at how simple it was to keep a metaphorical foot in the muggle world. Her clever little machine meant that she could learn, read and play without having to rely on electricity or other aspects of non-magical life that weren’t easily available in Diagon Alley, and she was glad that she had collected it for her research. 

“Hmmmm,” Hermione addressed Graham, a pygmy puff who had been brought upstairs by Fred because his constant sneezing had made Fred wonder if he might have a bit of a cold but who was, if you asked George, just a bit emotionally needy. “I’m not going to mention Charlie til we meet. Well, if we meet. Don’t want to freak her out if she’s moved on and is with someone else, and it would be a bugger if she refused to meet me because she’s sore with him or thinks he deliberately ignored her.” 

She had already found out what she could about Charlie’s favourite lecturer from the woman’s public profile and publications, and focused her email around their shared interests, thanking her lucky stars both that Lauren’s new university had a profile page for each staff member and that she and Lauren had some common academic ground. “I don’t want to be a weird stalker, Graham, but if there’s a chance she feels the same way about Charlie, well we have to at least try…” The pygmy puff gazed adoringly at her in response and leaned his cheek towards Hermione’s hand; happy to have the attention.

Ten minutes later, the email was written and she asked Fred to read it for her before she clicked the send button.

“It looks good to me, love,” he said, when he had finished peering at the screen. Hermione wondered, not for the first time, whether he was going to need reading glasses soon, and made a mental note to ask Molly how that worked for witches and wizards. Harry had acquired his iconic glasses before he knew he was a wizard, so there might be magical means that Fred could use to improve his eyesight if he preferred, she thought.

“I just hope it works.” She clicked the send button, closed the lid and pushed her chair back. “There. It’s gone. And in the meantime, I am off. Have fun in the shop; I have a new area to research.” She beamed at her husband and raised herself up on her toes to give him a long kiss goodbye. 

“The Statute of Secrecy?” he asked when they broke apart.

“Yes.” She continued to hold onto Fred’s waist, not really wanting to part from him, but knowing he needed to relieve George downstairs so that his brother could go and watch Angelina’s Saturday afternoon quidditch match. He was equally drawn to Hermione and he moved his right hand to cup her bottom and pull her pelvis towards his as she continued. Hermione’s eyes grew wider. “By the end of today I am going to know all the ins and outs of the secrecy law and its implications for romance.” She stroked Fred’s back. “I’m planning ahead. If Lauren agrees to meet me and turns out to be single, then I need to know what I can tell her. Because if there’s any way she’s open to seeing Charlie and I can help them to be together, I’m going to do it.”

“I don’t doubt you will, love; you’re a veritable Cupid. It’s a good job I married you first; Charlie might have scooped you up in gratitude otherwise!” He nuzzled her neck in response to the stroking.

“No chance,” said Hermione, leaning further into his touch. “You should have seen him, love. He’s completely taken with this woman. Even though it was nearly three years ago. You know we’ve been thinking he was with a different witch every week?”

Fred murmured in agreement. Now he was licking her neck with catlike strokes of his tongue, and Hermione felt herself melting.

“Well I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think he’s been with any. I think he’s been pining for Lauren and just allowed people to carry on assuming he’s still behaving as he did when he was younger. That’s what Bill says, too.” 

“Why do you think he never told us before?” Fred asked, kissing up her jawline as he moved one of his hands higher and slid it up Hermione’s side.

“I don’t know. He seemed a bit overcome by the romance of our speedy wedding. Maybe that and the beer and the heat of the day just brought it all out.” She sighed at Fred’s touch. “I’m glad it did, though. And just imagine how much leverage we’ll have with your mum if we can be instrumental in getting Charlie settled down.”

“Godric, you’re right, love” said Fred, pulling away slightly. “Fuck, I should stop this … if I carry you back to bed and end up being late, George will skin me.”

“Here…” Hermione led him to a drawer which opened to reveal a stash of dark chocolate-covered cherry liqueurs, put there for just this sort of occasion. “Open wide…” He did, and Hermione fed him two chocolates and popped another couple into her own mouth. It helped dampen their ardour enough for Fred to pull back slightly and refocus on the conversation.

“Thanks, love. What’s your first step then?”

Hermione took a deep breath, composing herself. “Actually, I’m going to floo up and meet Minerva at the school. She knows loads more about this than I do. It was her who came to see my parents and I when it was time for me to know I was a witch and find out about going to Hogwarts, and she’s had her own run-ins with the secrecy law as well, you know?”

“Yeah, didn’t she fall in love with a muggle or something?”

Hermione nodded. “And not that I want to drag that all up for her, but she said she didn’t mind talking about it. I know it’ll be different because Lauren’s an adult, not a child, but I’m sure Minerva will be able to tell me what I need to know. And she knows Charlie well from his Gryffindor quidditch seeker and captain days, so that’ll help her set me on the right path. Anyway, I’d better go, sweetheart, else I’ll be late.” 

Reluctantly, Hermione let go of her husband after one more deep kiss and walked towards the flat’s fireplace. She picked up her bag in one hand, took a handful of floo powder in the other and blew Fred a kiss before throwing it down and saying ‘Headmistress’ Office’ in a clear voice.

“Give Minnie my love!” He winked as she disappeared.

When Hermione arrived in Minerva McGonagall’s office, she stepped out of the fireplace to find her former professor chatting happily to a portrait of Albus Dumbledore.

“Hermione!” she greeted the younger witch with a friendly hug. “I was just telling the Headmaster here that you were on your way. He loved hearing about your wedding. Hasn’t stopped chuckling since he heard you took on one of the Weasley twins.”

Hermione smiled and waved to the portrait of her former headmaster, who gave her a friendly wave back. “Love,” she told him from across the room. “It’s a funny old thing!”

“Indeed it is, Ms Granger-Weasley,” the portrait Dumbledore said. “Indeed it is.”

“Now,” said Minerva, indicating that Hermione should make herself comfortable in a chair and summoning a tray of tea from the sideboard. “How can I help you?”

An hour later, Hermione was both better and worse off. Better in that she was now an expert on the ins and outs of the Statute of Secrecy, but also rather despondent that the situation was a little more complex than she had hoped. And for ‘complex’, read, ‘emotionally fraught with the one sensible option totally and utterly comprised of bureaucratic minutiae and wound around with a mile of needless red tape’. 

In cases like Hermione’s, the Headmistress had explained, it was simple and easy. A Hogwarts professor would travel to meet the family of a muggle-born witch or wizard and fully explain the situation. Nine times out of ten, this happened in the spring or summer before their first year at the school but, in cases where accidental magic was getting out of hand, flexibility and an earlier approach were entirely possible and it was in fact acceptable for any member of the wizarding community to offer information and support to parents of magical children. The UK was much more laid-back and open-minded than the US in this regard. Many muggle-born people came to know about the wizarding world through their sons and daughters, and the Statute allowed for this. There were mechanisms for muggles like Hermione’s parents to access the wizarding world, for instance to shop in Diagon Alley or to take their offspring to get the Hogwarts Express.

Interesting as she found it, none of that helped Hermione though. When an adult witch or wizard wanted to date, live with or marry an adult non-magical person, things were a bit more complex. It wasn’t that a witch or wizard couldn’t tell a muggle about the wizarding world; it was that they had to be one hundred per cent certain that the information wouldn’t go any further and that secrecy would be maintained. A witch or wizard who endangered the secrecy of the wizarding world could be punished, and that fact made confession a calculated risk. 

Generally, Minerva explained, one would need to build a trusting relationship with someone before feeling able to tell them, but then the very act of dropping such an enormous information bombshell was almost guaranteed to shatter whatever trust that the couple had built up in their relationship to date. The fallout was often disastrous and more often than not involved emergency memory modification spells and the end of the relationship.

Because of this, a good many witches and wizards, Minerva told Hermione with a good deal of apologetic face-pulling, either decided to end the relationship or kept their real identity and nature a secret from their beloved unless and until they had a child together who turned out to be magical. But accidental magic showed up at different times for different children, and this path also often led to marital strife when the non-magical partner discovered not only that their other half had lied for years but that their child wasn’t who they thought they were either. Not a great recipe for a marriage and Hermione couldn’t see Charlie going for that. He was far too straightforward and honest.

A good few magical folk, Hermione learned, had decided to relinquish their wands and put magic behind them in order to maintain a relationship with a non-magical person, but it could be difficult to maintain contact with one’s family in this situation. Apart from any other consideration, such as how on earth one would hide the magical movement of Molly’s serving plates at the Weasley Sunday dinner from a muggle partner, many magical households were only accessible by floo or apparition. Neither of those was possible without a wand or access to a magical fireplace. This wasn’t so much of a concern at The Burrow, which was accessible by road as long as you didn’t mind driving for an hour through the narrow, hedge-lined Devon roads, but there were still a few potential pitfalls that would need to be considered. Hermione filed this knowledge away, thinking that perhaps this option might be possible under certain circumstances, especially as she now had the combined brains and considerable magical talents of the Weasley twins at her disposal as well as Ron and Harry’s fast-developing auror expertise, but she knew that Charlie’s family was the one thing he wouldn’t give up.

The final option entailed petitioning the Wizengamot for a special licence, which would allow the magical partner to inform his or her partner of the situation in a more managed way and before the relationship had progressed too far. It still meant that the non-magical person had to deal with knowing that their boyfriend or girlfriend hadn’t been entirely truthful up until that point, but Hermione figured it was more palatable than living a lie for months or years. 

As far as Minerva knew, the information was shared with the non-magical person in a controlled environment by a pair of aurors who were trained to be able to assess how the non-magical person had taken the information. They would then decide whether they would be allowed to retain the information or whether they would need to be obliviated and never see the potential partner again. The upside was that the magical person wouldn’t face a trial if things didn’t go to plan. The downside was that no-one had successfully petitioned since 1927, and the current membership of the Wizengamot weren’t known for their progressiveness, however hard Kingsley was working to change that.

Hermione sighed. She felt a pang of pain at the realisation that, had she lived through the war, Charlie's old school friend Tonks might have been able to use her auror training to step in and help with this. She would probably have loved getting involved in setting Charlie up with the woman of his dreams, too, and Hermione found herself wondering if Charlie had confided in Tonks before she died. She sighed again, causing Minerva to pat her arm and offer some reassurance that things would work out eventually. Hermione nodded and gave her old professor a smile. It wasn’t that she had thought this was going to be easy, she explained. It’s just that she had hoped that there might be at least one pathway which offered a straightforward and reasonable way forward for Charlie. 

After thanking Minerva and catching her up on the news from Diagon Alley, Hermione flooed to Hogsmeade and spent a happy hour pottering around the shops and enjoying afternoon tea at a new café which had sprung up in the short weeks since the war ended. She used the café’s fireplace to floo home to the flat and, happy to be back home again, sat on the sofa to remove her sandals. 

“Where’s Fred then?” she asked Graham, who had settled on her lap almost as soon as she had sat down. “I guess he must be down in the shop still. Well, I think I’ll check my email.”

Hermione had hoped to find a response from Lauren, but there was none. Rather than put her feet up and worry about the Charlie problem further, she decided to go down, help Fred close up the shop and make his evening by taking him to The Leaky Cauldron for fish and chips and a few butterbeers. In preparation, and because she so enjoyed playing with their bond, she thought hard about fish and chips and was rewarded by feeling him fill with delight. 

A couple of seconds later, she felt George fill with delight as well. Hermione smiled to herself and put her sandals back on. She couldn’t tell whether George was back in the shop or still at Angie’s, but either way she figured it had to have been a short quidditch match for him to be able to contemplate dinner before the shop had even closed. She vowed, not for the first time that week, to put some time aside to work on how to better direct her communications just to Fred and not automatically ‘cc’ George in as well. 

Hermione opened the door which led from the flat down to the shop. “OK then,” she called as she descended the stairs. “I’m coming down to help close up and then we can go, but I’ve spent all my cash restocking our chocolate supply at Honeydukes so you two are paying!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and comments are as welcome as ever :-)
> 
> Also, I will be posting the first installment of 'Hermione's Christmas Cracker' in a couple of days, and it will then be updated every 2-3 days until the finale on Christmas Eve (and I'm in the same time zone as The Burrow). It's a fun and fluffy Fremione holiday fic designed to 'open' like an advent calendar and if you're reading this in real time and would like to follow along and get updates, you know what to do :-)


	17. An evening at the Cauldron...

“So there isn’t a good option?” Fred dipped another chip into his brown sauce before popping it into his mouth.

“Not that I can see right now.” 

Hermione preferred mayonnaise on her fish and chips, so they had asked for a pot of each when placing their order, plus some ketchup for when George joined them. The couple now sat at a picnic table in the beer garden of The Leaky Cauldron. There was a slight breeze, but the evening was warm and they were enjoying watching the wizarding world go by as they shared details of their day. 

Fred’s retelling had been quick; the shop was starting to become popular again now that they were clearing up and increasing their product lines after the war. He and George were aware that they needed to figure out how to manage the rebuild and regrowth of the business as well as deal with the day-to-day of their successful shop, and this was going to become more of an issue over the next few weeks. The quarter that began with the beginning of the new school year and ended with Christmas was always going to be their busiest, especially as it also included Samhain – or Hallowe’en, as it was known to some muggles – and November fifth.

“I have a proposition for you and George to think about, actually,” Hermione told her husband. “I’d like to tell you both more about it together when he gets here, but it actually worked out well that he was at Angie’s because I wanted to run it past you first to see what you think from the perspective of our marriage.”

“OK, love.” Fred speared another chip and swirled it in sauce, intrigued at the thought of what she was going to say. 

“Well I’m loving doing some gardening and research, and aware that I need to set aside time for Kingsley’s project, but I think I’m getting to the point where I’d like to work. Maybe part-time,” Hermione told him. “But I don’t want to work at the Ministry, and I’d be bored in a shop. I’ve thought about being a professor at Hogwarts, but they are mostly full time and I would have to live at the school a lot of the time and I don’t want to live apart from you.”

Fred balanced his knife on the edge of his plate so he could stroke her arm. “I wouldn’t like that either, love. Not after waiting all those years for you to finally be mine…”

“You could live there too if I was a professor, I think, but I don’t know whether you’d want to go back to living in the place where we spent our childhood and…?” She didn’t want to mention that it was also the place where so many of their friends had died and where her husband had almost lost his own life. 

But Fred knew what she meant and he slipped his arm fully around her as he thought for a moment. “I’m not completely opposed to it if it’s something you want, love, but it’s not really where I imagined we’d live. Is it what you want?”

She smiled at him. “No, so don’t worry. I have a better idea in my head. And you might not like this, and I hope you’ll tell me if that’s the case, but it seems crazy not to offer my skills to you and George in the shop when there's so much to be done… So...” 

“You’re offering yourself as Chief Prank Tester?”

“Oh gods no!” She looked a little upset at that.

“Sorry love.” Fred was blushing. He sometimes still had trouble knowing how far he could go and reading when he could and shouldn’t tease Hermione. “I’m shutting up; I really want to hear what you’re thinking.” He busied himself with his food in an attempt to not speak until she had finished explaining.

“Well I keep hearing you and George talking about the back to school rush, Samhain, November 5th, the build up to Christmas period and how busy it’ll be. I can feel that you both have concerns about how to keep on top of all the opportunities for holiday-related products while also doing the day-to-day stuff and restocking.” Her connection with both men told her that their concerns were even greater than they were letting on.

Fred nodded. “I’m sure we’ll get on top of it eventually, but neither of us are that great at that kind of thing. We’re more go-with-the-flow sort of wizards. We try hard though. George ordered us a muggle whiteboard last week to put in our office to try and help us plan ahead.”

“Well I was always really good at timetables and schedules and planning, Fred,” she said, a bit shyly. “And I don’t want to drive you nuts, but if you wanted … I could help with planning and timetabling and thinking ahead for holidays and stuff. I have some ideas about how we could make some of the glitterbubble products into gift-wrapped sets, which is something that muggles do a lot around the holidays, and I’d like to help think about more themed products and maybe I could also develop a system for you to know what we needed more of and when.”

Fred stopped chewing and looked at Hermione with wide eyes. He loved this idea already and couldn’t wait to hear what George thought. But, as Hermione continued, he realised that there was more that she wanted to say. He continued to eat his fish while he listened.

“I’d stay out of your way, of course, though when I had time I’d be happy to help you make products when you needed me to, and maybe even help think up some new ones. You and George and I could maybe have an informal meeting once a week and I could tell you where we were up to and say, for instance, we need to start thinking of Christmas ideas now, or it’s time to restock skiving snackboxes in time for the new school term. You’d both still make all the decisions, of course … I would just help remind you and keep you on track and make sure we were ready for each new opportunity to sell different kinds of stuff. Do you think it would help, or would I just drive you mad?”

Fred’s mouth was open. Luckily, he had swallowed his fish. “That’s bloody brilliant, Hermione. That would solve our biggest problem! We always have people wanting to work the till and the shop floor, but we don’t want to take on just anyone on the management side; there are so many secrets that we don’t want to share with anyone we don’t already know and trust.”

On another level, he realised, it would give Hermione exactly what she needed: a pattern and structure to her life that she hadn't had since leaving Hogwarts and that she was clearly missing. He didn't need it in the same way that she did but, if this could help her, Fred was all for it.

“Evening, lovebirds,” said George cheerfully, sitting down on the bench across from Fred. 

“Hello George,” Hermione smiled. George leaned forward to help himself to one of Fred’s chips. Fred slapped his hand away so George redirected his aim at Hermione’s plate instead. Hermione pushed her plate slightly towards him to allow him access and signalled Tom that George was ready for the plate of food that he was keeping warm behind the bar. Tom saluted her with his wand before sending the plate flying through the air to their table and George raised his hand in a wave of thanks before leaning over Fred to grab a fork and dive into his fish.

Fred couldn’t wait for George to get his food organised and dived straight in. “Are you ready to hear something cool?”

George looked at Fred. “Aren’t I always?” He waved to Tom once more as a butterbeer landed in front of him.

“My wife was just sharing the most brilliant idea with me. Are you ready to tell George, love?”

“Of course I will, if you’re sure?”

Fred nodded exuberantly, and Hermione repeated what she had just said. George clearly liked the idea just as much as his brother had and listened intently. When Hermione had finished, the brothers shared a look with each other and then said, “Hermione, you’re hired”.

Hermione was so happy that she couldn’t stop grinning.

“What about salary and stuff?” George took another bite of fish and watched Hermione carefully. “I’m not OK with it unless we can pay you properly.”

Hermione shrugged. “Whatever you think. It’s not like it really matters; Fred and I have a joint vault now anyway, and I know we’re doing OK. It would just be nice to know I was contributing to the family business.”

George nodded. “We’ll figure it out so it’s fair. Any special requests or conditions from your side?”

“Yes, I have one that’s quite important to me. I want a desk and workspace that you two aren’t allowed to put things on or do anything pranky to. Especially as I’m only offering myself part time. I need a space that’s sacred and that I can trust you won’t mess with. I want to be able to come in and find everything where I left it; it would be stressful for me if you interfered with what I was doing.”

George suppressed a laugh. “I think we can stretch to that.”

“And also I don’t want to have to wear loud robes unless I’m actually helping in the store.”

“That’s fine, love.” Fred covered his hand with her own as George grinned widely at him. “You can have special Director of Planning robes that you pick yourself. Go and see Madame Malkin and have her design some things you like and put them on the shop account.”

“Thank you. I might even get some seasonal things as we go through the year, like reindeer antlers for Christmas and a muggle witch’s outfit for Samhain!” She was quite excited now.

“Nice. How about a sexy Hogwarts uniform for the back-to-school season?” George got a hex in the form of a clip around where his left ear had once been for that one. 

“Ignore him. He doesn’t get laid the night before quidditch matches, so he’s extra horny. I think that all sounds great, love. When would you like to start?” Fred asked her.

“I’d like to have a few more days to finish my research and see if I can get anywhere with finding Lauren. I’m planning to see Kings again next week to get a timeframe for our mission, so I don’t know exactly, but definitely within the next week or two. That will give me the rest of July and the whole of August to get ready for the back to school stuff and line up everything for after.”

“Brilliant. How’s it going with Lauren?” That was George. Hermione wouldn’t necessarily have chosen to tell him about Charlie’s situation, but she wasn’t yet fully able to control the link that she had with him via her and Fred’s marriage bond. George had reassured her that he wouldn’t take advantage while she learned to control her end of their line of communication and, so far, he had kept his word. 

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “I went to see Minerva today, and it’s not great news. Either he has to keep his magical nature a secret, decide whether he trusts her enough to tell her now but run the risk of getting into trouble if that doesn’t go well, wait until they have a baby before telling her, or petition the Wizengamot for support in telling her sooner, but they haven’t given permission since 1927.”

“Why?” George asked.

Fred rolled his eyes. “Same old prejudice? Or maybe they’re fearful of repercussions if it doesn’t work out?”

Now it was Hermione’s turn to pull a face. “I’m not sure, but I imagine it’s something like that. It’s a bit difficult though. How can you build a trusting relationship with someone when you can’t tell them one of the most fundamental things about you? I don’t think Charlie would want to be less than honest given what’s already happened. And I think it’s too big a risk.”

“It’s a tricky one,” Fred agreed. “But maybe she won’t even answer and then you don’t have to fret about it.”

“I hope she does though.” Hermione looked wistful. “He’s bonkers about her. I don’t know if he’ll ever feel that way about someone else. I mean, it’s been nearly three years! It’s because of that that I’m thinking the petitioning option might be the one to go for. If we could gather his memories for a pensieve and persuade the wizengamot that he’s totally serious … well maybe that would go in his favour?”

“Maybe…” Fred was torn between being as supportive as he wanted to be and being as realistic as he felt he ought to be. 

“Hey, I think there’s more room for optimism than you think here, Freddie!”

Fred looked at his brother.

“Well, aren’t you two the poster kids for their ‘get married and make babies’ campaign … surely you could chat Kings into something which would make things a bit easier for wizards and witches in Charlie’s situation? Surely it would increase the number of babies even more if some of us married muggles; we could spread the magic around a bit more.”

“Actually,” said Hermione, looking between the two men, “that’s a brilliant idea, George… I’ll ask him about it when I meet him again. Let’s just hope she replies to my email and isn’t partnered off with someone else already.”

“I think you should have hope,” George told her, pushing his plate away. He stood up. “And besides, we need to celebrate your new appointment. I’m going to the bar for more butterbeer.”

Hermione took the opportunity to snuggle up to Fred. “You sure you’re OK with the job idea? Not going to get bored of seeing me all day?”

Fred let out a laugh. “Didn’t we have this conversation on our honeymoon, love? I grew up at The Burrow with an identical twin who rarely left my side. What part of that makes you think I need a lot of time to myself?! No, it’s you who’ll need space. But Georgie and I are on the shop floor a lot, so you’ll have the office to yourself for several hours a day. And you might want to work in the flat or on the roof sometimes if you need peace and quiet.”

“That sounds good actually. I think I’ll need that. I’m not sure I’d cope well with the noise of the shop all day.”

“No, you can just think about it instead!” Fred leaned in to kiss her while they had a few moments to themselves. It didn’t last for long, though.

“Hey, stop snogging, you’re always down each other’s bloody throats, you two!”

“Hello Ron,” Hermione pulled away and smiled at her friend, who was preparing to sit down next to her. “Did you know George was at the bar?”

“Yeah, of course he did. It’s like he’s got some sort of detection spell which tells him when it’s somebody else’s round.” George settled the tray of drinks that he was levitating onto the table. Hermione did a quick count of the glasses and then looked up with a smile.

“Who else is here?”

“Harry, Ginny and Luna,” Ron said as he picked up his drink and held it up in a toast. “Cheers, all.”

“Oooooooh, Luna…” Fred raised his eyebrows, catching George’s eye as he squeezed Hermione’s hand to get her attention as well.

“Looooooona,” whispered George, in Ron’s direction. He tipped his head back and made what he considered to be a sexy face. “Oh, Luna!” His voice was quiet and deep, and he was already being rewarded for his efforts by the blush that was creeping across Ron’s face.

“Shut it,” Ron glared at his brother. The others would be there soon, and his relationship with Luna was still in the early stages, so he did not need Fred and George trying to muck things up.

Hermione touched his arm. “Don’t rise to it, Ron. They don’t mean it; you just make it a bit easy sometimes. Tell them to piss off; that’s what I do.”

Ron glanced at Hermione in surprise, but they could all see that he was about to crack a smile. “You’ve changed, you have. I blame Fred!”

“Me too,” said George. 

“Hey!” Fred complained. “I’ve calmed down loads since I became a responsible married man!”

“Yeah, you probably have,” said Ron, “But seeing how mad you were before you got married that’s not saying much, is it?”

“Go Ron,” whispered Hermione, looking at Fred.

“Hey!” Her husband put his arm around her. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“I didn’t realise I had to choose a side,” she teased him.

“Well you do.” He scooped Hermione closer to his side, making room for Luna to sit next to Ron. “And it’s mine. Hi, Luna!”

Hermione raised her eyebrows and then pecked his lips as Luna greeted them back and then gave Ron a beautiful smile as she settled on the bench in between them.

“See that’s what I mean,” said Ron. “The old ‘Mione would have argued with him more. New married ‘Mione’s all soft and smooshy.”

George laughed. “Not always! And it’ll pass … especially when she starts her new job and gets to boss us both around!” 

Their evening was filled with laughter, banter and catching up on news. Hermione and Ginny caught each others’ eyes several times to have a Fred- and George-like conversation about the blooming relationship between Ron and Luna, and Ginny insisted on going to the loo with Luna so that she could quiz her on what was happening. It was as hard as ever to get a straight answer from the small blonde witch, though. She simply told Ginny that she and Ron were good friends and that their journey would take them where it was going to take them. Ginny gave up and returned to the table just as Hermione announced that she was ready to go home. Fred opened his mouth to tease her about having already spent more time that day checking her laptop than looking at him, but closed it again when he saw her warning look. He remembered just in time that he wasn’t supposed to discuss ‘project Lauren’ with anyone except Hermione and George.

“Bit under the thumb there, Fred?” teased Ron, and Hermione was quick to tell Fred that he was welcome to stay out longer if he wanted to.

“But I don’t want to, love,” he told her, kissing her nose. “And for the record, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, Ronniekins, thanks for asking.” Fred’s answer elicited a groan from Ron and a chorus of appreciative noises from the more romantically inclined of their group.

Fred and Hermione walked slowly down Diagon Alley, hand in hand, enjoying the twilight. Upon arriving back at the flat, Fred wasted no time in pulling Hermione towards him and reminding her that George wasn’t coming home that night, so they could test another lovemaking venue.

“Let me just check…” Hermione moved towards her computer as Fred teased her, but she was engrossed in the screen and didn’t hear. A minute later, she spun to face him, her eyes wide with delight. “It’s Lauren, Fred! She’s replied!”


	18. Meeting Lauren (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so the long-awaited meeting with Lauren! Regular readers may have noticed that I have been updating on Tuesdays, but next Tuesday is December 25th and I am not going to be on here! No promises as to whether I can update earlier, as life is busy at this time of year, but I will update as soon after as I can. Thanks for understanding :-) And I have a fluffy Fremione holiday fic if you need something to keep you going in the meantime! Happy holidays, everyone :D x

When Lauren Bennett opened her front door and welcomed Hermione into a small bungalow, Hermione fell a little bit in love. It was probably inevitable, given how exited she had been to receive Lauren’s email when she arrived home on the Saturday evening and how much she had been looking forward to meeting the woman who had captured Charlie’s heart. 

The days leading up to their meeting had been satisfyingly full. After arriving home on Saturday evening to find Lauren’s email reply, Fred had given up on taking Hermione to bed immediately, instead pouring them each a glass of firewhisky to sip while they sat on the sofa and discussed the best next step. Hermione waited until the next morning before replying to Lauren’s email. As before, she didn’t mention Charlie. Hermione didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t want to take the chance that Lauren would decline to meet her without knowing the full facts of the situation. As Hermione’s email address was created long before she added the ‘Weasley’ to her name, there wasn’t much chance that Lauren would connect her to Charlie from that and, after much internal deliberation, Hermione decided that it would be OK to wait and tell Lauren in person why she had sought to meet. In the meantime, Hermione focused her conversation on her interest in Lauren’s work – which was genuine; Hermione was fascinated by the idea of studying different cultures – and asked Lauren if it might be possible to meet and talk face-to-face. Her time was very flexible, she said, and she was of course happy to travel to Lauren’s office.

Full of anticipation and excitement, Hermione’s next step was to concentrate hard on getting through the Weasley Sunday dinner – which she otherwise enjoyed – without having Molly or Ginny becoming suspicious. Both witches were highly observant and, Hermione knew, quick to notice when anyone was behaving unusually. Although, as George had pointed out in a low voice when he and Hermione had happened to be alone in the living room and he asked how she was doing, if Molly sensed Hermione’s heightened emotion she would probably jump to the thought that Hermione was pregnant before she even considered the truth as an option. That, Hermione conceded, was an excellent point. “Just chill, lovely,” he advised, reaching out to stroke her shoulder. “Freddie and I can feel your excitement through the bond, but no-one else has any idea. They’re too busy watching Ron and Luna and wondering if they’ve done it yet!”

Hermione had laughed all the way back to the table, but it had helped her relax, and Fred gave his twin a grateful thumbs up when they sat down again. A few of their family members exchanged worried glances, wondering what the pair were up to, but the twins and Hermione just laughed, delighted to have put them off the scent in such a way.

As they left The Burrow, a bit earlier than usual, Fred had asked if he could side-along apparate them, and Hermione agreed, not entirely surprised to find herself in the Weasley’s treehouse from which they had descended on their wedding day. “Two weeks today since I married you, love. Wanted to celebrate before we get home and you get engrossed in your pooter again…” 

He took a collection of pieces of coloured cloth out of his pocket, tossing them into the air with one hand while drawing his wand with the other and transfiguring them into huge pillows as they fell onto the wooden floorboards. He took a step towards Hermione and she forgot all about everything except Fred for the next hour as they made love and chatted softly as the evening began to fall. He side-along apparated them home as well and Hermione was touched when he landed them beside her computer, giving her a quick kiss and telling her that he would make her some tea while she checked for another pooter owl from Lauren.

Hermione was just as delighted to find the second message from Lauren as she had been when she received the first one. Lauren had explained that she was mostly working remotely these days and, as it was the university summer holidays, she wouldn’t be on campus again for a good few weeks. However, she wrote, she was happy to meet with students and colleagues at her home, and Hermione was welcome to come there if she would like to talk sooner. Lauren told Hermione the name of the village where she lived, gave details of the local bus route in case Hermione didn’t drive and suggested two or three times when she would be free over the next few days.

Delighted, Hermione raced to the kitchen to tell Fred, who scooped her into a hug of happiness. The next morning, once he and George had gone down to the shop, she made short work of the planning; sourcing a map, plotting her journey, picking a date and time – two days away, on the Wednesday – and replying to Lauren. Before she could write to Charlie to give him an update, however, she heard a tapping on the window and found an owl from Kingsley asking when she and Fred might be able to come to the Ministry for a couple of hours for the photo shoot and interview that they had promised him. 

Hermione felt a bit overwhelmed again and ran down to the shop. “What’s up, love?” Fred asked when he saw her. Hermione gave him the letter to read and he leant against the counter as he did so. “It’ll be OK,” he reassured her with a hug. “Kings said it’ll only take a couple of hours, and he’ll arrange it around whatever commitments we already have.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Hermione replied. “I just feel I have a lot on this week, what with meeting Lauren, and not knowing how that will go. If it goes well, I’m thinking we might end up with Charlie here over the weekend, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that, love.” 

“Your wife is definitely better working in the planning ahead department than you…” George quipped as he walked past, catching the drift of their conversation.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him as Fred pulled her into his arms. “And then I said I’d start at the shop after that!”

Fred administered a kiss. “Look, lovely, just tell Kings that we have a lot on this week and arrange something for next week instead. And it doesn’t matter if you don’t start in the shop as soon as you thought. It’ll be great to have you here whenever you can manage, but I’d rather have a calm wife than a stressed timetable manager!”

Hermione relaxed against his chest, soaking up the waves of calm that both he and George were sending her through the bond. It amazed her that they could work in such a colourful, noisy environment and yet be more relaxed than she was in the quiet flat, but she had learned over the past couple of weeks that this was how it was. She was immensely grateful for the way in which the boys had figured out how to help her relax through the bond, and she smiled to herself at the thought that, when circumstances required, she might be able to use it to stimulate them into action in turn.

“It’s also because I’m a bit worried about what will happen,” she confessed to Fred. “I mean, if Lauren’s with someone else, or isn’t interested in meeting up with Charlie. If that happens, I don’t want to send an owl; I would rather tell him in person. So I don’t want to fill my time up in case I need to go to Romania, and I would have to make plans for that too.”

Fred kissed her once more. “I think that would be the kindest thing to do, but it’s easy enough to sort, love. We’ll ask Dad to sort us out a portkey and you can either go to the reserve on your own or I’ll come with you if you like. Dad won’t mind; we’ll just find him some tatty old muggle object to transform to butter him up a bit … he loves things like that old boot they made into a portkey when we went to the World Cup that year!”

Hermione laughed. “You won’t mind if I go and get drunk with Charlie for a night or two?”

“Not in the slightest, but I’m an optimist, love, so I’m focusing on her being free, single and open to the Weasley charm.” Fred grinned. “Let’s cross that bridge if and when we come to it, as you muggle-borns say.” He waggled his eyebrows and Hermione smiled. 

When Hermione arrived back in the flat, she wrote a letter to Charlie, updating him on what was happening and promising to owl him again as soon as she had met with Lauren and had anything to tell him. 

Two days later, as she looked out of the window of the muggle bus which was taking her to Lauren’s end of the large village (which was surprisingly quiet given that they weren’t that far out of Bristol), Hermione fervently hoped that a portkey wouldn’t be needed. 

The bus trip was an added bonus. Hermione had realised, as she considered her journey to Lauren’s, that she couldn’t exactly figure out a safe apparition point in an area that she had never visited, so she flooed from the flat to a well-known wizarding café on the outskirts of Bristol itself and then walked into town to get the bus. She found that she rather enjoyed revisiting her muggle transport roots and the short walk from the bus stop to Lauren’s cottage and, only a few moments after she cheerily thanked the driver and stepped off the bus, Hermione found herself standing in front of the woman who Charlie loved.

Like Charlie, Lauren was a few years older than Hermione; probably in her late twenties, Hermione guessed, quickly computing how long it would take to do a muggle degree and doctorate and adding a bit of time for the lecturing experience which she knew Lauren had from her online CV. She looked totally different from how Hermione had expected, too. A good few inches shorter than Hermione, Lauren was plump with curly dark blonde hair cut into a chin-length bob.

But the things that really struck Hermione were the size of Lauren’s smile, the warm, ebullient nature of her personality and the fact that she looked more like a witch than most of the witches that Hermione knew. Lauren wore a multi-coloured patchwork dress and seemed to have beads attached wherever she could fit them; some were strung around her neck and wrists, more hung from her ears and she even had a couple attached to her hair. Lauren looked like she would fit in perfectly at the counter of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes although Hermione realised that, with a PhD, an academic career and a string of publications to her name, that probably wasn’t a career path that Lauren would be exploring anytime soon.

She could totally see why Charlie was so enamoured with Lauren. Her smile and her energy were infectious and made you want to never leave her side. Hermione now understood why Charlie had found it impossible to move on romantically, having spent a summer in this lovely woman’s arms.

As Lauren ushered Hermione through the hallway and into a cosy kitchen, Hermione thought that, if Lauren’s house was any indicator of her character, she and Hermione could very easily be friends. One wall was lined with a higgledy-piggledy assortment of bookshelves, stuffed to overflowing with books, and not one stick of furniture matched another. Instead, the chairs were covered in colourful throws and cushions and the walls sported a collection of home-sewn hangings. Hermione loved it.

“Did you make these?” asked Hermione, indicating the closest wall quilts.

“Mostly, yes,” Lauren replied. “It’s my evening entertainment … I’m not one for going out to the pub much these days. Glass of wine, book or sewing and maybe a good film, and I’m happy. Bit boring, I know.” She laughed, her smile widening.

“Actually, it sounds perfect,” Hermione smiled. “I could do with a few evenings like that myself. My life’s been a bit crazy of late!”

Lauren looked slightly concerned at that. “Are you OK?” she asked. “You weren’t specific about why you wanted to meet me, other than that you were interested in my research and would welcome the chance to chat. I assumed you were thinking of becoming a student, but is there something else that I can help you with, Hermione?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, I’m OK, thank you. I just meant, well I got married recently, and it was a great flurry of activity and I haven’t had too many quiet evenings. I’m fine, thank you. Really.”

“OK, good. Would you like some tea?” Lauren indicated that Hermione should sit at the kitchen table, and Hermione did so. 

“That would be lovely; yes please.”

“Great; a woman after my own heart. I’ll put the kettle on.”

Hermione took a few moments to admire the rest of Lauren’s kitchen and fleetingly wondered if she could persuade Lauren to help her decorate the WWW flat and make it a bit more homely. Lauren’s house reminded her a bit of The Burrow and she found herself wondering if and how Lauren would fit in at Charlie’s childhood home. That was, if Hermione could ever find a way for them to be able to be together without their relationship being based on a pack of lies.

“I really love your house,” Hermione told her, wondering how soon she should drop her information bombshell. 

“Oh, thank you. Me too,” Lauren replied, reaching into the cupboard for teabags. “I’ve been here about three years now, and it’s been nice to make it my own. I’m not sure whether it’s a long-term option at the moment though.”

“Oh? Why’s that, or shouldn’t I ask?” Hermione didn’t want to pry, but she was very keen to find out as soon as possible whether Lauren was seeing anyone. That could help her frame how to best start a conversation about Charlie. Hermione didn’t often go into situations that were this unplanned, but there were too many variables to have come up with much of a strategy ahead of time. And, besides, it was nice to find something to talk about so quickly. Small talk didn’t always come easily to Hermione, and she felt she ought to try to chat and make friends a bit before saying anything that might be too shocking.

Lauren had no qualms about opening up to anyone. “I’m working mostly from home now, so I don’t have to live so close to the uni, for a start.” She pulled a face that Hermione couldn’t read. “And you’ll probably think I’m mad if I say this, but if you’re here because you’re thinking of studying with me then it’s better you know that sooner rather than later!” Lauren grinned as she continued to prepare the tea. “But a couple of strange things have happened recently, and I’m wondering if the place is haunted!” She glanced at Hermione, head tipped a bit to the side as she gauged the younger woman’s reaction before deciding whether to continue. Raising a finger, Lauren continued. “However … I’ve been doing a lot of reading about mythology of late, so that’s probably not helping…” 

“Strange in what way?” Hermione asked politely. 

Lauren looked at Hermione for a good few seconds, eyes narrowed slightly as if she was considering whether to share or not, and then said, “You really want to know?” She was still grinning, and she raised her eyebrows in a way that reminded Hermione of Fred and George, but there was also something under the surface that Hermione couldn’t put her finger on. A concern that Lauren wasn’t ready to share, perhaps.

“Try me,” said Hermione, trying to sound nonchalant as she smiled back at her new friend. “Sometimes it’s easier talking to a stranger. I’m very open-minded. I grew up in a house where strange things happened as well. Mostly around me, to be honest.”

Hermione’s mind had begun to race as she processed Lauren’s words and her own thoughts. By strange things, could Lauren mean magic? Because if Lauren was a witch, then things could work out perfectly with her and Charlie. But she quickly – and with a bit of disappointment – dismissed that thought. Lauren’s attire was likely the product of a love for colour and her extraverted nature, not the outward expression of magical blood. 

Hermione chuckled to herself at the vividness of her imagination and reasoned it through in her head as Lauren continued to fetch things to make their tea. Many witches, Hermione rationalised, including herself, dressed far more conservatively than Lauren. And, appearances apart, if Lauren was a witch, she would have received a Hogwarts letter years ago, and they were near enough in age that Charlie would have already met her at school, so that was pretty unlikely. Any witch who was at Hogwarts at the same time as Charlie Weasley would have known Gryffindor’s star quidditch seeker straight away, even years later.

Damn.

And even if Lauren had grown up abroad and gone to Beauxbatons, Ilvermorny, Durmstrang or another wizarding school, then she would still likely have known how close the spa she stayed at in Romania was to the dragon reserve, which was famous throughout the wizarding world due to the valuable nature of dragon parts. It wasn’t exactly hard for witches and wizards to identify each other, either; they could generally sense other magical folk, especially if they were as physically close as Charlie and Lauren had been. No, Hermione realised; that really would be wishful thinking. All of the available evidence pointed to Lauren being a muggle.

Lauren finished pouring tea and passed a mug to Hermione. She held up a jar of honey, causing Hermione to shake her head as she murmured a thank you. Hermione sipped from her mug as Lauren sat down at the table, pointing to a mark high up on the kitchen wall.

“If that mark wasn’t still there, I swear I would have thought I was dreaming. But last week, I was cooking dinner and a load of sparks made that mark on the wall, but it seemed like they came from behind me, out of nowhere, not from the cooker. Very weird.” Lauren shook her head, still smiling.

“Wow,” replied Hermione. “That must have been scary.” The mark looked rather like the ones on the walls and ceiling of Fred and George’s bedroom at The Burrow. Hermione smiled to herself and inwardly rolled her eyes at her own thought process; not only was she desperate to find Charlie a happy ending but she was so into Fred that she saw him in everything.

“It was a bit scary, to be honest,” Lauren continued, although the smile didn’t drop from her face. “I can’t see how it was the oven, but it must have been; there’s no other possible explanation.” She shrugged and drank a bit of her own tea. “And then another day I’d left some stuff on the floor in the living room and when I went out and in again, in like thirty seconds,” she indicated the clock on the wall to illustrate her words, “well things just seemed to have moved, and I can’t for the life of me work out how. Like, I said, I’m probably just imagining things; I don’t always sleep well when it’s hot out…” Lauren trailed off.

Hermione looked concerned. “Are you on your own here?” She knew from her own recent experiences that fears and adversity were much better faced in company. 

“I’m not married or anything, if that’s what you mean?”

Hermione chose her words carefully. “I just … well I know we’ve only just met, but I don’t like the thought of anyone being on their own, especially if odd things are happening. I’ve had a bit of a difficult time myself recently, in the months before I got married and … well I suppose I‘m - ” She trailed off and shrugged, smiling uncertainly, not really sure how to finish.

“I’m OK,” Lauren smiled, reaching out to touch Hermione’s arm. “But thank you. I’m not completely alone. There is a rather important man in my life,” she smiled. 

Hermione’s heart sank. It was inevitable, she supposed, that a clever, confident and vivacious woman like Lauren would have a boyfriend, even if they weren’t married. Her heart pounded at the shock of the news, and at the same time it ached for Charlie. Hermione knew that he would never pursue Lauren if she was with someone else; he was too honourable about things like that. But what to say to Lauren now to explain why she had come? Should she even mention Charlie? Oh gods, Hermione thought that she had thought this through as much as she could, but she now felt completely unprepared and wished that Fred or George were with her. They were so much better at dealing with the unexpected. Hermione fiddled with her mug and bit her lip as she tried desperately to think of what to say next. The twins felt her stress and sent reassurance down the bond.

“Don’t be concerned,” Lauren said, misreading the expression on Hermione’s face. “I’m really OK about the house stuff, you know. It’s a bit weird, but I’m old enough to live with a bit of mystery and uncertainty here and there, especially in my line of work!” 

Before Hermione could respond to that, she heard a high-pitched squeal from one of the bedrooms. 

“Uh oh,” smiled Lauren, putting her mug on the table and moving her chair back. “No peace for the wicked!”

Puzzle pieces started to fall into place in Hermione’s brain. “Lauren,” she said slowly. “Do you have a child? Is that what you meant by an important man?”

Lauren smiled and nodded as she stood. “Yeah. I’ll just get him if you don’t mind. He’s not stroppy, but he’s always wide awake after his nap and he loves meeting new people…”

Hermione was glad of the extra time that Lauren took after calling out that she would be back in just a few minutes; it gave her some space to process her thoughts. Charlie hadn’t said anything about Lauren being a mum. Did she have a child when she had visited Romania? Surely not; she had gone there for most of the summer and it would be unusual for a mother to leave a child for that long. Could Charlie really have forgotten to mention such an important fact or was this a more recent child? And if so, where did his dad feature in the equation?

Another thought froze Hermione in place. She was certain that Lauren wasn’t a witch. But, although she didn’t know much about it, it dawned on her that the strange occurrences that Lauren described could be the kind of accidental magic that wizarding babies and children produced without being able to control it. That could explain why the marks on the wall looked like those in the twins’ bedroom. But if Lauren had a magical baby, then was he the result of a more recent relationship with a wizard, who might still be on the scene – oh gods, perhaps even someone they knew – or had Lauren become pregnant with Charlie’s baby in the Romanian mountains?

Hermione’s mind whirled as she processed the possibilities. If Lauren had already given birth to a magical child then there would be no reason not to tell her about the wizarding world and she and Charlie at least had half a chance. But, Hermione kept reminding herself, her son could be somebody else’s baby. The father might be due home any minute. Lauren’s sense of colour and flamboyant dress likely made her particularly attractive to wizards, and there were certainly enough of them in the south west, where Lauren lived. Statistically, Lauren had more chance of meeting a wizard than most women.

Or maybe the strange occurrences were unrelated, and Lauren’s oven was on the blink. Maybe Hermione’s imagination was creating imaginary links to fulfil her own wishes for Charlie to have a romance as happy as her own. As she sipped her tea in order to try to keep herself grounded in the present, Hermione’s mind continued whirling with possibilities. But she didn’t dare get her hopes up. All she could do was to wait until Lauren returned.


	19. Meeting Lauren (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so the tidal wave of happy reviews both on here and FF spurred me on to do everything I could to make time to put everyone out of their cliffhanger misery by posting this early and before the holidays, so here you go with the news you've all been waiting and hoping for, my best wishes for a happy and peaceful festive season and thanks for all the lovely reviews and follows and likes :-)

By the time Lauren came back into the room, Hermione was a bit more composed, but still not completely prepared for the shock of seeing her carrying a chunky, smiling, redheaded toddler with the bluest eyes imaginable. There was no doubt that she was looking at a Weasley. Her jaw fell open and her heart soared for Charlie.

“This is Elliot, my son. Elliot, this is Hermione. She’s come to have some tea with us.”

Hermione smiled and said hello to the happy toddler before looking back at his mother. “This is your man?” she asked, still not completely sure whether there was a more recent boyfriend in the equation as well but feeling it would be rude to ask directly.

“My one and only.” Lauren gave her son a big kiss on the cheek and he beamed in response, patting her face. “It’s been just me and Elliot for a while now.”

Hermione took a deep breath, her heart still pounding. “Lauren, I don’t know how to begin, but I have something huge to tell you, and it will even explain the weird stuff that’s been happening in your house, though I realise I’ve probably terrified you just by saying that.”

Lauren did look a little worried.

“I know this will be a shock, Lauren but I promise everything will be OK. When I emailed you, I didn’t give you my full name. I mean, my name IS Hermione Granger and I haven’t yet changed my email address, but my full married name is Hermione Granger-Weasley.”

Lauren’s eyes flew open and her jaw dropped. “You’re Charlie’s wife?” She looked as though she might be sick and her son called a concerned, “mummy!” from her arms.

“Oh no, no, no…” Hermione said quickly, reaching out to reassure both Lauren and her little son. “I’m so sorry, Gods, I didn’t think … that was … no. No. I’m married to Charlie’s younger brother, Fred. Charlie isn’t married.” She shook her head. “Charlie is very, VERY single. He told me about you. He … he’s wanted to contact you ever since you left Romania but he didn’t know how to find you. I promised to try to help him find you, and that’s why I got in touch. I’m so sorry, this must be such a shock, especially -” she indicated towards Elliot, who was happily playing with a set of wooden keys. “He’s Charlie’s, isn’t he?”

Lauren nodded. “Hermione Granger-Weasley, meet Elliot Charles Bennett-Weasley.” There was a long pause while Lauren collected her thoughts, and she sat Elliot and herself down on the sofa, stroking the toddler’s soft red hair into some sort of order with her fingers while visibly taking deep breaths to calm herself. “So many times I wondered if I made the right decision about his name, but I couldn’t deny him the only link I had to his dad.” She looked up. “I’m sorry if I’m not making sense, I’m finding this a bit hard to process.” 

“Don’t worry, you’re fine,” Hermione reassured her. The toddler turned and stared directly at Hermione, still a bit sleepy and not yet ready to chat. “Well, Elliot Charles,” Hermione leaned in and offered her fingers to the tiny boy. “It’s very nice to meet you. Your dad is going to faint when he hears about you. Or cry, more likely.”

Lauren smiled wryly. “I doubt that. I don’t know what Charlie’s told you, but he had my contact details. And even if he lost my business card, I’m not hard to find online. Perks of being published and all.” She looked wistful. “Not that we made any promises to each other; it was a holiday romance. He doesn’t owe me anything.” She hugged Elliot more closely. “But it would have been nice to meet for a drink and tell him he had a son.” She shook her head. “I tried to find him once I realised that Elliot was on his way, but he's not even in the phone book!”

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Hermione. “It’s a long story, but if you can bear with me and keep an open mind, I promise I’ll explain it all, and you’ll understand why he hasn’t been in touch. Charlie’s a good, good man, I promise. And he would love to reconnect with you, but circumstances haven’t been on his side.”

They went through three pots of tea that afternoon. Hermione tried to break the news slowly, but she couldn’t really explain much at all without telling Lauren about the existence of a whole world that she had never previously imagined. Just as Professor McGonagall had had to do all those years earlier when visiting Hermione’s parents to deliver her Hogwarts letter in person, Hermione used her own wand to prove the existence of magic, much to Elliot’s delight as she levitated his beloved bunny from the beanbag to the sofa and back again, transfigured a saucer into a funny hat and then conjured stars and sparks for him with her wand. Once he had woken and had a few minutes to get used to Hermione, Elliot was chatty and friendly, reminding Hermione of the more extraverted Weasley siblings, and he seemed to embrace magic from the moment his new auntie stepped into his life.

Lauren took a bit more convincing, even though her academic openmindedness as well as her experience of Elliot’s accidental magic over the past few weeks had helped pave the way for the revelations that Hermione was sharing. It was hard at first for her to accept that Hermione could tell her that Charlie was a wizard so easily when Charlie hadn’t mentioned it at all, despite their increasing closeness over the weeks they had spent together.

“I know it seems nonsensical,” Hermione explained. “But there are harsh punishments for anyone who spills the secrets of our world to non-magical people, so Charlie could have got in big trouble for telling you he was a wizard. To be honest, when I first got in touch with you I didn’t think I would be able to tell you anywhere near as much as I have. I was just hoping you’d be open to meeting Charlie. I wouldn’t have been able to say anything either if Elliot hadn’t been Charlie’s son and already displayed accidental magic. The fact that you have a magical child makes it legal for me to tell you anything about our world and help you in any way I can. You’re a part of it now, through Elliot.”

Still, it was a lot for Lauren to get her head around. “I just keep wondering if there’s a secret camera in here, and I’m on some kind of TV wind-up show,” Lauren said more than once. “Not that I can think of anyone who would do this to me, but is there a film crew in the bedroom or something?”

Hermione shook her head and sighed. “It must be so hard. What can I do? Do you want me to leave for a bit; give you some time to think?”

“Maybe … no … I don’t know!” said Lauren. “I’m the kind of person who needs to process things out loud. It’s helping to talk about it all, if you’re OK with that? Are you in a rush to go?”

Hermione smiled. “Not at all. And listening is really the least I can do, after opening up this can of worms all over you.”

That made Lauren laugh. “Does Charlie really want to see me? Maybe that would help too. Oh golly,” Lauren stood and ran her fingers through her hair. “I need the loo. All that tea. Let me think. Sorry; I’m all over the place.”

Hermione stood as well and held out her arms. “May I?” She leaned forward and gave Lauren a hug. “Take some time. I’ll play with Elliot. Is it OK to use my wand and make stars for him to watch again?”

“Of course,” laughed Lauren. “That’s kind of helping me make sense of it, too. I still can’t believe Charlie works with actual, real dragons. I mean, the tattoos are sexy as hell, but … real dragons?!”

Hermione laughed. “Wait til you see the tattoos without the freezing charm on them. They move…”

Lauren shook her head in disbelief as she walked to the bathroom. This really was all too much. She splashed some cold water on her face, wiped it off with a hand towel and then reached for her moisturiser. She had spent the first couple of weeks after her Romania trip berating herself for missing the company - and the touch - of her summer lover more than she could have imagined. She had no way of contacting him, because she had been oh-so-cool and casually handed him her business card as she snogged him goodbye and then walked away, leaving it to him to decide whether to get in touch on a future visit to the UK. So, upon returning home, Lauren decided to throw herself into the new academic year as a means of distraction. When autumn dawned with the realisation that she was pregnant by the red-headed man, Lauren’s hormone-fuelled feelings oscillated between the grief of not being able to find Charlie and the delight of the gift of a new life. His baby. 

After he arrived, born into a pool of warm water towards the end of a long, late May night, Elliot was a constant reminder of the happiest weeks of his mother’s life, not least because of the blue eyes and flaming red hair which reminded her so much of Charlie’s as he stood in the Romanian sun. Elliot tied them together, even if Charlie hadn’t stayed in her life in person. 

And right now? Time had passed and Lauren reflected that, if someone had asked her a few days ago, she would have said she wasn’t sure how she felt about Charlie anymore. But if even half of what Hermione was saying was true, well now Lauren felt both excited and queasy at the thought of seeing Charlie again. More to the point, she realised that she didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary.

While Lauren was out of the room, Hermione took the opportunity to address something that had been bothering her ever since Elliot had appeared in Lauren’s arms; the incessant and excited feelings that were coming through the bond from Fred and George. She couldn’t tell how much they had sensed and worked out, but she did know that she needed to stop them from broadcasting their suspicions or knowledge. Elliot’s eyes boggled as Hermione conjured her patronus and sent Fred and George a message. “Everything is fine,” she told her otter. “Don’t say anything about what you’re sensing, please. It’s important. I’ll explain everything when I get home.”

When Lauren re-entered the living room, she found Elliot happily seated on Hermione’s lap. They had been reading one of his favourite books together but she had clearly paused to answer his questions and was repeating her name for Elliot, who was trying hard to pronounce it. “It’s OK,” she told the little boy. “You can call me whatever you like; I don’t suppose any of your cousins will be able to say Hermione either.” 

“He has cousins?” 

“He has one adopted cousin called Teddy so far, but there’ll be many more to come. Probably sooner than later, given what’s happening in our world at the moment. I’m not sure how much Charlie told you about his family?” 

Lauren shook her head. “Only a bit. We mostly talked about ideas and mythology and books … he seemed really interested in my work and was always full of questions, but he just said he had grown up in Devon and it sounded like he had a happy childhood. He mentioned an older brother called Will or Bill, I think, and I think he said he had younger siblings too?”

“Bill,” said Hermione. “Charlie is one of seven. He has five brothers and one sister, Ginny. Bill’s the eldest, then Charlie, and I’m married to Fred, who’s right in the middle, but he only won that claim to fame by a few minutes.”

Lauren frowned for a moment, not able to immediately compute how that was possible with so much else going around in her head. 

“Fred’s a twin,” Hermione explained. “Identical. And I’ve now lost them the ability to prank you when you first meet George; they won’t like that!”

“You think I’ll meet them all?”

“I sincerely hope so. If you’d like to, anyway. Charlie has a wonderful family. Completely in your face half the time and loud as anything, but wonderful people. You’ve never experienced a Christmas like it.”

“Sounds nice,” Lauren said. “I don’t have much family. My sister lives in Australia and my parents died a few years back.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. She winced slightly when she realised that she and Lauren might share even more common ground, but now wasn’t the time to mention her own family situation.

Lauren shrugged. “It happens.”

“Must have been hard having a baby without family though.”

“I joined a nice pregnancy yoga group and made some friends that way. We still meet up sometimes. A few of my colleagues were great; some aren’t too far away and have kids of a similar age so are happy to exchange babysitting. And I had lovely midwives, so I wasn’t alone for the birth. Elliot was born just there,” she pointed to a spot in front of the sofa, “and I had a fairly easy birth, all things considered. Long, but manageable. Couldn’t have asked for more, really, though I would have loved his dad to be there. Even if we weren’t together in that way.”

Hermione nodded. “I know Charlie would have been here for you if he had known. He’d have been right by your side. He’d love to see you, if that’s something you’d like?” 

Lauren nodded. It was clear to Hermione that she was still thinking about what might happen next. Gently, she offered some options. “Lauren, I can leave anytime and you can just email me if and when you’re ready to take things further. No pressure. Charlie’s still in Romania, but he knows I’m looking for you, and if I contact him then he’ll take some time off and get back over here as soon as you want. Or we could get you back over there, if you’d prefer. I’ll help you make it happen, whatever you want. The ball’s in your court…”

That was something else, Hermione realised. It was lovely to be able to use muggle idioms without having to explain them all the time. She was definitely going to do everything she could to adopt Lauren as her friend, despite their age gap and no matter what else happened. 

Lauren’s fingers played with the beads around her neck as she looked at Hermione. “You must really love Charlie.”

“I really do.” Hermione smiled, thinking back to their pre-wedding conversation. “He gave me some great advice before I got married, which I think was probably stuff you’d taught him, so I owe you for that, too. I was so affected when he told me about what had happened and his feelings for you; I was desperate to help him find you … I’m just so happy to finally be meeting you and able to explain everything…”

Lauren bounced across to the other sofa so that she could give Hermione a hug. “Thank you,” she said. “I haven’t really even said thank you.”

“There’s no need, honestly.” Hermione felt good in the older woman’s arms. Even though Hermione was the taller by a few inches, Lauren felt safe and solid; that wasn’t something Hermione had experienced a lot of late, except with Molly. Lauren gave Hermione a reassuring squeeze, sensing that this young witch had a big story that she hadn’t fully made sense of herself. Well, that was OK. Stories were Lauren’s medium. And she liked Hermione a lot. She recognised and shared the same sense of curiosity and a deep desire for learning.

Pulling back, Lauren looked at Hermione and nodded. “I think I’d like to see him as soon as I can. Maybe somewhere in between at first; neutral territory, if that doesn’t sound weird? A quiet café, perhaps … or somewhere private, maybe outside, where we won’t be disturbed. Could you help me arrange that, do you think?” 

“Absolutely,” replied Hermione, thinking. “If you like, you could use our place; Fred and I share a flat with Fred’s twin brother George and we have a roof garden. It’s nice, and it’d be totally private with no chance of interruption, but also you’d have us downstairs if you wanted anything…”

Before Lauren could answer, Elliot had climbed upon her lap, asking to watch a DVD.

“Of course, lovely,” Lauren told him. “Sorry, mummy’s being a bit boring today … you pick one, and I’ll put it on for you.”

Elliot spend a few moments appraising his DVD collection and chatting Hermione through the options before presenting Lauren with a penguin cartoon.

“What a great choice, Elliot,” Hermione told him. “I loved animal films when I was little and …. oh!” She turned back to Lauren. “It’s just clicked … Elliot as in Pete’s dragon?”

Lauren laughed and nodded, looking a tad embarrassed. “It took me ages to come up with the right name, but it seemed perfect when I thought of it. Because of the tattoos, and I loved that film when I was little. And it’s weird, but Elliot loves lizards and dinosaurs and dragons … he knows all their names and types; almost as if there’s something in the DNA!”

“Well who knows?! His name is perfect. Charlie might not get the reference, though; you’ll have to explain it sometime. I’m not sure he’s ever seen a film.”

Lauren furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head in disbelief.

“You’ll get used to it,” Hermione smiled. “I was eleven when I found out I was a witch, and it took me a while to adjust. Charlie and his brothers and sister grew up knowing they were magical, so for them it’s the other way around and it’s the non-magical world that can seem strange to them.” She smiled. “It’s fun to watch. I introduced my husband and his twin brother to the cinema recently … it was so precious to see their reaction.”

Once Elliot and his rabbit had settled onto a beanbag to watch the DVD, Lauren turned back to Hermione. “Having a roof garden sounds lovely. I think it would be great to meet Charlie there. I always benefit from getting away for a day or so and I like that we could talk without anyone disturbing us. Where do you live? Is it easy to get to?”

Hermione smiled in reply. “We’re in London. Don’t worry about the getting there bit, and you’re welcome to stay with us; both of you. You could either drive or get the train and I’ll meet you and take you on foot for the last bit of the way, or you could travel magically with me if you wanted, but maybe we should save the specifics for another day?”

Lauren nodded. “I’d like it if you were nearby when Charlie and I met again. It feels so strange and even though you’ve only been here a few hours and told me the craziest stuff I feel safe with you.” She slipped her hands into the big pockets of her colourful dress, playing with something she found in one of them and lowering her voice so that only Hermione could hear. “I’d like to be the one to tell Charlie about Elliot, Hermione, and I want to do that in my own time, depending on how things go. So I’ll need to find someone to watch Elliot when I first meet Charlie. If Elliot’s around when Charlie arrives then he’ll get a big shock and I don’t want Elliot to sense that or wonder what’s going on. I don’t want to keep Charlie from him but if they’re going to meet each other then the circumstances need to be right for both of them.”

This time it was Hermione who nodded. It made perfect sense to get Charlie reunited with Lauren before telling him about his son. Elliot looked like a miniature version of Charlie, so there would be no doubt about who he was if he was in the room when Charlie arrived. “Fred and I could watch him, if you’d like? Our place is big enough that we can keep him hidden for a bit, and then he’s there so Charlie could meet him right away if you both want that?”

“That seems sensible. I don’t suppose it’s fair to ask you to not tell your husband anyway.”

Hermione pulled a face. “I know you don’t really need any more weird magical stuff thrust upon you, but my husband and I have a special kind of marriage bond which means that we can sense stuff through each other. So he and his twin already know that Elliot exists, just not the details. I’ve told them not to say anything though, and they won’t.” She grinned. “They’ll be too scared of what I might do to them if they did!”

Lauren put her face in her hands, not for the first time that day, and rubbed her cheeks before shaking her head. She looked around for a TV camera one more time. “This really does have to be the weirdest day of my life so far. And I’ve had some weird days!”

“I need to stop adding to that, then! Look, how about I go home and get in touch with Charlie and see how soon he can get over to England? I’ll email you as soon as I hear back from him.”

“That sounds great.”

Hermione hesitated. She wanted to offer Lauren more support, remembering how bereft she had felt in the hours after Minerva had left her parents’ house after disclosing that Hermione was a witch. Hermione had been full of questions, and she suspected that Lauren might feel the same. “Or if you’re not too busy, I could come back over tomorrow, whether or not I’ve heard from Charlie, and we could talk more.” 

“It’s such a long journey from London, though.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Well not for me now I know where you live.” She looked around Lauren’s house. “If you’d be OK with me using magical transport, which I will confess will make me appear and disappear in a puff of smoke, sorry,” both women laughed, with Lauren also raising her eyes to the ceiling and shaking her head, “then I could apparate, which means I can travel instantly from here to there and back again ... it’s really no trouble at all. We'll pick somewhere private so there's no danger of anyone seeing me and arrange a time so you’ll know it’s going to happen and it won’t freak you out more than necessary.”

“I’d love that. We usually go to the park mid-morning so you could either come at about ten and join us, or wait til nearer twelve and come for lunch after we get back.”

“Ten is good, and I’d enjoy a walk and a swing. And it will be good for me to get to know Elliot so he’ll be comfortable with me when we babysit for you. Though we’ve made a good start on getting to know each other already, right Elliot?”

“Brilliant.” As usual, Lauren’s smile lit up her face and Elliot turned around when he heard his name.

“Hermione’s going soon, lovely,” Lauren told her son.

“Can't she play more? I like her...”

“She’s coming back tomorrow, so you can play again then.”

“OK!” Satisfied, Elliot turned back to the penguins and Hermione turned to Lauren.

“Email me sooner if you want to know anything, though. I don’t have a phone, sorry, but I’ll make sure I check my email a couple of times this evening. I'm out for dinner with Fred and George and George's girlfriend, but we won't be back late. So if you don’t want to be alone, well I can come back sooner, or you’re welcome to come to ours for a bit; we’re very open house.” She paused, not sure what else she could offer in the face of everything that she had landed upon the woman who had loved her brother-in-law and borne her nephew. “I’m sorry this has been so weird and shocking, Lauren.”

“Sorry?” Lauren’s eyes were shiny and she shook her head in disbelief as she took a deep breath and then sighed it out with an unfaltering smile. “I didn’t even know if Charlie was still alive. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would cut off all ties, so everything went through my head. You’ve given me hope that my baby’s dad might want to be in his life, and maybe Charlie and I can be friends, at least. I’d say that was a good day’s work, Hermione.”


	20. Making a plan

When George Weasley had promised to love, honour and keep the secrets of the bond that had unexpectedly formed between him and his wife-in-law when she bonded in marriage with his twin brother, he hadn’t accounted for one thing.

How cross Angelina would be when she realised that he was keeping a huge and juicy secret from her.

The sensible response when she confronted him over a coffee break just half an hour after Hermione’s patronus had instructed him and Fred to keep quiet would have been to be as honest as he could without breaking an actual confidence. He and Fred had only seen flashes of what looked like a redheaded child, after all, and they weren’t sure what it meant themselves. George could have told Angelina that they were getting intriguing pictures through the bond and that Hermione had asked them not to say anything until she could explain properly. He could have reassured Angelina that it wasn’t anything about her and that the four of them would have a calm conversation about it together during date night that evening. So, naturally, George had instead apparated away with a stricken look on his face and was now hiding from his girlfriend in the backroom of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

“Is he here?” Angelina asked Hermione as she ran up the stairs and into the living room of the flat. Hermione had literally just apparated in herself, from a secluded corner of Lauren’s back garden, having explained to her new friend that she needed somewhere where she wouldn’t be seen leaving or returning.

“George? I don’t think so,” Hermione replied. “I imagine he’s downstairs but I’ve only just got back so I don’t know for sure.”

Angelina spend thirty seconds looking around the flat before discovering that he wasn’t there. She sighed and plopped herself down on the sofa beside Hermione.

“Can I help?” Hermione asked. She had been excited to send Charlie an owl, but the look on Angelina’s face suggested that this seemed more urgent. “Tea? Butterbeer? Firewhisky? Stinging hex aimed at his arse cheek? I've seen Freddie do it, and it's quite effective...” Hermione was secretly enjoying the more confident and daring side of herself that had emerged since she married Fred. She rather liked seasoning her conversations with words that shocked people from time to time.

Angelina laughed a bit at that. “No, just an honest conversation, if it’s alright with you?”

“Of course. We agreed during the honeymoon that we needed to stick together, you and I, so you can say anything you need to.” She leaned forward. “Have I upset you, Ange?”

Angelina sighed. “I understand the bond stuff is a bit tricky and none of us anticipated it. I don’t want to force you to tell me personal things, but I don’t want to fall out with George either, and he’s keeping a secret from me, I can tell.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide and her shoulders slumped. “Oh Ange, I’m sorry. It was just so sudden. I found out something a bit unexpected today, and the boys picked it up through the bond. I sent them a patronus because I didn’t want them to blurt it out in front of anyone. It’s a bit sensitive. I didn’t mean George couldn’t tell you, though. Of course you should know, and I’ll tell you everything over dinner but I want to tell the boys the full story as well, so do you mind if I tell you all together?”

“Is it that juicy?”

Hermione smiled. “It’s the juiciest gossip I’ve ever had.” Then her face fell a little. “It’s going to be a nightmare keeping it from the Weasleys until the person who needs to know next finds out, though.” She gave a wry smile as Angelina looked even more confused. “Look, I’m not trying to tease you, but I need to start at the beginning. Would you grab Fred and George while I freshen up? I have to send an owl really quickly but as soon as they’ve shut the shop we could go to your dad’s early so no-one has to wait any longer to find out?”

Angelina stood and gave her a hug. “Thank you. I promise it won’t go further than me, whatever it is, but I … I find it a bit hard that I’m not in this loop. Especially as I can’t bond with George in the same way unless I give up quidditch…”

Hermione squeezed her more tightly. “We’ll make it clear to George this evening that he should feel able to tell you anything, and maybe we should say something to the rest of the family about that as well. I don’t want the bond to cause problems for anyone.”

“OK. I’m feeling a bit sensitive. I’m away a lot for training at the moment, so I’m not getting much!” She winked at Hermione, who grinned in response.

“You sure you want to come out with Freddie and I, or should we let you two have a night to yourselves instead?”

“Gods, no, not if you’ve got the gossip of the century! Don’t be offended if we leave early, though. I’ve got make-up plans for George Weasley once I find him and he gets out of my bad books!”

Hermione smiled as Angelina flashed her eyes and walked over to the door that would take her back down to the shop. Quickly, she found clean parchment and a quill, hoping that the boys would have a mail order owl that they could spare overnight.

.

_Charlie,_

_I have met Lauren and I love her! More importantly, she’s single and open to meeting with you. She knows about the wizarding world (I have explained the important things and she understands why you couldn’t find her, but you and Lauren need to talk now). She would like to meet you here at our flat in Diagon Alley. Let me know what day and time you can get here and how long you can stay and I’ll make it happen. Friday or the weekend would be great if you can get away that soon, but she might use muggle transport, which is slower than ours, so best not to come before then as I need a day or two to plan._

_With loads of love,_

_Hermione_

_P.S. If you want to send Lauren a note with your reply, I’ll get it to her for you._

.

As she was writing the last sentence, Fred had come into the flat and walked up behind Hermione, winding his arms around her waist. 

“I know you’re more interested in reading this than cuddling me,” she quipped. “Don’t forget I can feel your emotions…”

Fred tried to look hurt, but failed, and a large grin crossed his face. “She’s up for meeting him? And what about the –” 

“All in good time, sweetheart. Did you bring me an owl?”

“I did,” George was striding towards her with a sturdy looking grey owl riding on his shoulder. Angelina was close behind him, looking a bit happier. “Oswald says he’d love a trip to Romania to see dragons and have a sleepover with Charlie as a nice change from taking skiving snackboxes to Scotland, wouldn’t you mate?” The owl gently pecked George’s good ear. 

“Thank you, Oswald.” Fred suppressed a grin as Hermione addressed the owl, giving him a small bow of her head as she handed him the letter. He loved that Hermione was unfailingly polite to magical creatures of all kinds, treating them all as equals and always asking for their help rather than ordering them around. He knew that this was one of the reasons that Charlie loved her as well. The owl immediately took off through the large open window and then circled the rooftops of Diagon Alley before arcing his wings and heading southeast towards Romania.

“Are you ready?” Fred asked Hermione.

“I am,” she smiled.

“Right then, love, prepare to be apparated. None of us can wait a minute longer to hear what you have to say for yourself!” He took her hand and she felt the squeeze as he magically transported them directly to their favourite beanbag, with George and Angelina appearing immediately after them on the other side of their favourite triangular table.

“I’ll be two seconds, and don’t you dare breathe a word til I’m back! Butterbeer or water or something else?” Angelina asked, heading into the restaurant as soon as they gave her their drinks order. It took her forty-five seconds to hug her dad and find a waiter, and then she was back and eager to hear what Hermione had to tell them.

“OK, I’ll start at the beginning as I don’t know what George has told you so far…” George went to interrupt Hermione, wanting to clarify what he had and hadn’t told Angelina, but she gently raised her hand. “I don’t mind what you’ve told Ange, George. I’m sorry if I made you think you had to hide this from her and we all need to have a chat about that before we leave here, but let’s do this bit first, OK?”

George nodded. Fred was practically bouncing out of the beanbag with excitement.

“About three years ago, Charlie met a muggle woman called Lauren when she was holidaying in Romania for the summer. It was a summer fling for both of them; neither was looking for anything more. Lauren lived in England … well, still does, and gave Charlie her contact details when she left but they didn’t make any definite plans. He couldn’t give her any way of contacting him, of course, as she didn’t know he was a wizard.” Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. “They’re both as bad as each other in the department of non-commitment!” She looked up and smiled her thanks as a waiter dropped off a pitcher of water and their drinks.

Fred used his wand to charm the water jug to fill their glasses as she continued. “Once she left though, Charlie realised it was more than a summer thing for him; he really cared for her. But he didn’t know how to use muggle communications to find her. He made one attempt that failed, because she had moved jobs, and then he was busy being Bill’s best man and we were in the lead-up to the war and The Order needed him to recruit in Europe and, well, life got in the way. Thank you,” she smiled at Fred and sipped her water before continuing. 

“The day before our wedding, he told me all about it. He’s still holding a massive torch for her and was so sad because he thought he had lost her, but it struck me that it wouldn’t be that hard to find her; not if you used muggle technology. He was delighted with that idea, so I did some research and found her and she and I chatted a bit by muggle means and today I went to meet her.”

Fred and George both leaned forward. “And?” they said in unison.

“And she’s lovely. She’s still single; she’s fun and friendly … and,” she took a deep breath, “it turns out that Charlie got her pregnant before she left. They have a gorgeous two-year-old son called Elliot that Charlie has no idea about.”

Angelina gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in surprise.

“Knew it,” said Fred, holding his hand out to George, who reached into his pocket for ten galleons. 

“Which bit were you betting on, precisely?” Hermione asked.

“Gender,” Fred grinned. “What we picked up from you was so blurry that we had a fifty fifty chance, but a win is a win whether by luck or judgement.”

Angelina was laughingly shaking her head at them. “How does she feel about Charlie? Gods, I can’t even imagine…”

“I know…” Hermione replied. Both the witches went quiet for a moment as they considered how hard it must have been for Lauren to be pregnant and to raise a small child on her own. “I think, for a while, she assumed he’d get in touch one day so she just waited, but of course eventually there came a point where she’d have been too pregnant to think about travelling to Romania to look for him. And for all she knew, his work there might have been temporary, so it could have been a wasted trip…”

“The poor woman…”

Hermione nodded again. “She’s strong, though. Clever, really qualified in her world, just a lovely woman. You two will love her,” she looked at Fred and George. “She’s very colourful, and bright as anything … I can see her giving you both a run for your money.”

They took a break to order food and, over the next hour or so, Hermione filled them in on the finer details, on her plan for the next few days and on the fact that Lauren wanted to tell Charlie about Elliot herself. 

“That’s understandable,” said Angelina. “Though I don’t fancy being in our shoes when Molly finds out that we knew and didn’t tell her.”

“I know,” Hermione said. “I’ve been thinking about that too. Ginny as well…”

“Oh Gods,” said Fred, looking at George. Clearly something else had occurred to him.

“Bill!” George shouted, picking up his twin’s thought more quickly than Hermione on this occasion.

“Oh please … promise me we can be there when Bill finds out and I’ll never test a product on you again?” Fred fluttered his eyelashes at Hermione.

“It’s not up to me, silly! I’m just facilitating their meeting; it’s up to Charlie and Lauren to figure it out together after that!”

“What are we going to do though, seriously?” That was Angelina, and the other three turned to look at her. She put her glass down to explain. “Molly will go ballistic, and I don’t want us all to get grief when she finds out that we knew and didn’t tell her!”

“Well I know exactly what I’m going to do,” Fred declared.

“What’s that then?” asked Hermione.

“Everything I can to not see mum until Charlie’s told her himself!”

George laughed, loudly, but all four of them were aware that this problem needed to be solved, and that they also needed to talk about the issue of the bond itself. Seeing a waiter coming onto their balcony with a magical notepad in hand, they decided to pause to order their food and hash it out while eating.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

“Is that all of it decided then? And are we all happy with the plan?” Fred asked, as they pushed their dessert plates away an hour or so later.

“I’m delighted with the Quadruplet Agreement, if you all are,” Angelina said, and George tightened his hold on her.

“It’s the least we can do, Angie,” Hermione told her. “When we’re next at The Burrow, we will tell everyone that they need to accept that anything told to one of us is effectively told to all four of us. The possible exception is our own birthday and Christmas surprises, but they will have to understand that the three of us just aren’t able to keep some things from each other and that we all agree it’s unfair to exclude you from anything that any of us knows.”

Angelina’s relief was clear in her face. 

“And as far as the Elliot situation goes,” Hermione continued, “we’re agreed that we’ll all be super busy and avoid The Burrow until Charlie gets here and finds out, and then tell him that he needs to tell mum before Sunday dinner. And if for some reason he doesn’t make it or Lauren doesn’t tell him before Sunday, we will go to plan B.” 

Fred took over. “… beg Phil to have need of us here all day Sunday to help him with something, and explain to mum that it’s only fair we share ourselves around.”

“I don’t think it’ll come to that,” said Hermione. “I know Charlie has leave due, and I think he’ll do whatever he can to be here this weekend. I’d be amazed if he’s not here Friday evening. Can I bet on that?”

Fred and George shook their heads.

“Why not? You’re always betting with each other and the rest of your family.”

“We both think you’re right though, so no-one wants to bet against you…”

“You need to get a better handle on how betting works, love,” Fred stroked her hair.

Hermione huffed gently. “Well OK, can we talk about how we can offer them both a bed if they want to stay? Charlie’s easy because he’ll sleep anywhere and there are three or four sofas between the flat and the shop which we could transfigure, but we can’t let Lauren stay by herself at The Cauldron, especially on her first visit to a magical environment…”

A large grin crossed George’s face. “You think they’ll just pick up where they left off? Are we talking one bed or two?” Then his teasing stopped as he remembered Elliot. “Oh, or three, I guess, with them having a little one?! Wow, that’s gonna cramp his style a bit, the tart!”

Hermione couldn’t help laughing. “I haven’t a clue, George! But Elliot’s easy; we can transfigure a little bed for him, or maybe he still shares with Lauren.” She looked at Fred. “We could offer Lauren our room, and enlarge one of the sofas for us? I was already thinking we’d need to keep Elliot in our bedroom when Charlie arrives. We can lock and ward the door; put up a silencing spell…”

“No need for you two to end up in the living room,” George interrupted. “I’ll just go to Ange’s,” he turned to his girlfriend, “if that’s OK with you, love?”

“Of course, but you know I’m away this weekend for work? We’re all travelling up Friday morning because of the pre-game publicity stuff...”

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” he admitted.

“Well it’s not a problem,” she continued, her hand on his arm. “You can stay there without me. Keep my bed warm,” she winked at him.

George looked at Fred and Hermione and shrugged. “It’d be fairer anyway, I guess? Doesn’t seem right for all of us to meet Lauren and Elliot before Charlie does? Lauren can have my room and then the sofa’s free for Charlie and I’ll come over and meet them later in the weekend.”

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

It was just as well, Hermione thought, that she had been able to predict Charlie’s desire to come as soon as possible, else they might have to have gone back to the drawing board with both their sleeping arrangements and their plan to not get in trouble with Molly. The letter that Elena had dropped onto the table before going for a nap on the roof when they returned to the flat that evening was brief. 

.

_My Lady ‘Mione,_

_I don’t know where to start. I won’t ever be able to hug or thank you enough. The only reason I’m not apparating into your arms to hug you right now is because I would probably splinch myself in my excitement. I can get a portkey to the Ministry Friday after work, which will be about 5pm your time. I’m not keyed into the flat’s wards so I’ll floo to The Leaky Cauldron and walk to the shop. Is that too soon? I hope not. I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight. THANK YOU! I can’t believe it._

_I’ve been trying to write a note for you to give Lauren the past hour and I can’t get it right. I’m sending this with Elena because you said you needed to know soon, and I’ll send something for Lauren with Oswald once he’s had a good kip on my balcony._

_You’re fab,_

_Charlie_

_P.S. I can stay til first thing Monday morning if you, Fred and George are OK with that. Can bugger off to Mum’s if you don’t have room._

.

Hermione wrinkled her nose and smiled to herself. She was fairly confident that Charlie wouldn’t be ‘buggering off to mum’s’ in a hurry once he had seen Lauren and learned that he was a dad, but who could tell. 

The next morning, Oswald arrived back home bright and early with two tiny packages, which Hermione enlarged with her wand while the kettle boiled. One was a box of chocolates for herself, with another lovely note from Charlie. The other was a box for Lauren, and Hermione was glad that he had enclosed the note in an envelope, as she didn’t want to pry into their private correspondence. Placing both boxes on the coffee table, Hermione headed to the shower, keen to get in and out before Fred and George wanted the bathroom. Today, she was off to see Lauren and Elliot again, and she couldn’t wait to tell her new friend that things were working out for her and Charlie to be reunited at the end of the week.


	21. Welcome to the Wizarding World...

Hermione dropped the tee shirt that she had slept in onto the bathroom floor and stepped under the fragrant, cascading water. Although she was a big fan of baths, she also loved the magical shower that Fred and George had installed in the flat’s bathroom. The magic was complex, as they had created a large dial with multiple discs which you could set to mix almost any combination of water pressure, heat and flow without having to take your wand in with you. They had also somehow managed to add the option of several herb and oil blends, and Hermione’s favourite so far was the ‘hot rain’ setting with the addition of the rainforest spice mix. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Fred’s voice came from behind her and she smiled to herself as he placed both his hands on her hips and kissed her shoulder.

“Fuck, you came in here quietly,” she retorted, reaching a hand back to stroke him.

“Haven’t come yet. Planning to, though. Wanted to surprise you,” he whispered, nipping her neck with his teeth after discarding his boxer shorts and closing the shower door. Hermione tipped her head to one side, enjoying the stretch of her muscles under the heated water almost as much as she did the sensation of his lips and tongue upon her skin. “Show you what I woke up with,” he growled quietly into her ear, pressing himself into the small of her back.

“Mmmmmmm, is that for me?” she teased.

“You want it?”

“Of course…”

Fred went down on one knee, using his hands to spread Hermione’s legs but stopping her with a gentle, “no, stay there,” when she went to turn around to face him. He gently pushed her shoulders forward, pulled her hips back and pressed his face to her core, licking and teasing her with his fingers and mouth for several minutes until she was begging him to fill her. Then, spreading his feet slightly apart to gain traction on the shower bottom, Fred turned Hermione and then leaned down to pick her up and wrap her legs around him. Bracing her against the wall, he cast a wandless spell to take some of her weight, kissed her soundly and entered her as the fragrant water cascaded over them both. 

A few minutes later, after coming down from their orgasms and casting a finite to return Hermione’s body mass to normal, they gently washed each other’s hair. “What are your plans today, love?” Fred asked as he massaged the conditioner that Hermione had squeezed onto his palm into her locks. 

“I’m going to send Elena back to Charlie to confirm that we’ll expect him just after five on Friday, and then I have a date with Lauren and Elliot,” she told him. “We’re going to the park. I’ll take her the note from Charlie and make a plan to get her over here before Charlie arrives.”

Fred frowned. “How are they going to get here? You wouldn’t apparate them both together their first time, would you?”

“Gods no…” she trailed off, realising that she probably needed to give it more thought. Fred was right; apparition took some getting used to, especially for adults, and it wouldn’t be right for one person to take both of them, especially if they were both ill upon arrival. “They might come on the train, or floo. Lauren has a car, I think, but driving into London would be a lot of hassle. I don’t know…” But, Hermione thought, even if they were going to floo then it might be better for someone else to carry Elliot so she could help Lauren. She and Fred looked at each other, realising together that if Lauren and Elliot were going to travel by magical means then Hermione would need help. 

“If they decide to floo, I’ll come,” Fred offered. “I was planning to chat George into giving me Friday afternoon off anyway, so I can tidy the flat and get some shopping in. Ange is leaving early that day, so he won’t mind working. And we’re both taking Saturday off this week; Verity and Lee are going to hold the fort. If we’ve got a houseful for the weekend then we’ll need to stock up, though I thought we could have fish and chips on Friday to make it easy…”

“We had fish and chips last weekend, sweetheart!”

“’Mione, I have fish and chips most weekends! It’s Georgie’s favourite, and it’s pretty up there for me too!”

Hermione gently bounced her hip into his. “You’re going to end up looking like a chip, Fred Weasley!”

He leaned down to her ear. “I’m not, love. That’s just a myth that parents tell kids who won’t eat their veggies. And besides, our bond means you’d still love me even if I did…” 

Hermione leaned her face in as he kissed her cheek and began to chat to her about what he should put on his shopping list while she finished washing. Not for the first time, Hermione gave silent thanks that Molly had drilled homemaking skills and a sense of household responsibility into all her children. She made a mental note to pick up some good muggle chocolate for when she next saw her mother-in-law. 

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

When Hermione explained the transport options to Lauren a few hours later, during their walk home from the park with a sleeping Elliot, Lauren tipped her head back and forth several times while weighing it up.

“I can cut the options in half right away,” she said. “There’s no way I’m going to drive that far into London and I’ll rule out apparating this time,” she said. “I think I’d like to at least have had a coffee and a chat with your husband before I throw up on him!”

Hermione smiled at that. “I’m not trying to put you off it. Once you’ve done it a couple of times, you’ll be fine. I just want to make sure you’re fully informed; some people don’t tell you how disorientating it can be the first time and I don’t think that’s helpful…”

“And I really appreciate that, Hermione! I’m tempted to wimp out and go for the train, but on a Friday afternoon that won’t be a relaxing option either, and if the floo system really is that quick then I’m thinking we should go for that. It sounds nicer than the underground in this heat…”

“I think that’s a good idea. So I’ll apparate here, we’ll get the bus into town, Fred can meet us at the café and then we’ll all floo straight to the flat.” Hermione had already told Lauren about the wizarding café that she had used the first time she visited Lauren, and she was glad that she would be able to give Lauren a means to travel to or contact the magical world on her own if she needed it anytime. 

“Can I take baggage if we floo? Like a suitcase or rucksack, I mean?”

“Of course; that’s partly why Fred’s going to come and help. He can take your bags or maybe even Elliot if he’s open to Fred holding him, and then I can help you. It’ll just be easier if there are more of us.” Hermione paused, choosing her next words carefully. “And on that note, do bring overnight things for both of you. George says he’ll stay at his girlfriend’s flat, so you can have his room for a night or two if you’d like it…”

“Oh, that’s kind of him,” Lauren said.

“That’s very much the Weasley way,” Hermione told her. “But he stays at Angie’s flat most weekends anyway, so don’t worry that you’re putting him out.” She paused, checking Lauren’s face before continuing. “Charlie’s coming to England for the whole weekend, so it’d be good to leave your options open. But I can apparate or floo you home anytime if you need a break or have had enough of us, so don’t be afraid to ask...”

Lauren gave a half smile. “It might be the other way around; Elliot has a lot of energy, especially in the morning!”

“That’s OK,” Hermione leaned in closer. “So do George and Fred … it’ll be interesting to see who gets worn out first!”

Lauren realised that she was really looking forward to meeting more of Charlie’s family as well as seeing the man himself. “I’m actually quite excited about it,” she told Hermione. “Even the flooing!”

“Well that’s good … you will get used to all of this, I promise,” Hermione reassured her. “And probably sooner than you think. I adapted to it fairly quickly, considering.”

“You were young, though…” Lauren looked thoughtful.

“Yes; that probably made it easier in some ways … but you have advantages too…”

Lauren tipped her head slightly and looked questioningly at Hermione, who smiled as she explained her reasoning. “You’ve got the wisdom of all your years of studying. I’m not saying it’s better or worse than my experience, but you’ve studied different cultures; that might give you a head start.” Lauren nodded, and Hermione continued. “You’re definitely better with people than I was. And you’ll have the Weasleys … well, you’ll have to take my word for it til you meet them, but whatever happens with you and Charlie, you and Elliot will have a whole new family who are going to love you both and do whatever they can to make you feel welcome in their world.”

She hoped. Hermione knew that the elder Weasleys would dote on their grandchild but she wasn’t totally sure about how Molly and Arthur would react to the news that their second eldest son had a two year-old of his own with a woman who he wasn’t in a relationship with. She didn’t dwell on that thought, though. Since she had been with Fred, Hermione was finding it easier to put future worries on the back burner and concentrate on the present moment. 

“Is there anything I need to bring? I’ll bring Elliot’s carrier rather than this,” she indicated his pushchair, which would be bulky to transport, “but what else?” 

Lauren’s voice brought Hermione out of her thoughts, and she considered the question before answering.

“Just clothes and personal stuff and whatever you need for Elliot. None of us have kids yet, so we’re not really prepared with supplies, though food for him shouldn’t be a problem and Fred’s doing a big shop for the weekend. He’s got it into his head that we’ll have fish and chips on Friday evening, if that works for you?”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Fred and George will find any excuse to have fish and chips!” Hermione confided. “I try to add a bowl of salad so we have something healthy too, but I only have about a fifty per cent success rate!”

Lauren laughed. “It sounds like you look after them well! I hope you don’t do too much for them?” she asked the younger woman.

“Well…” mused Hermione. “I try not to. Angie warned me about that, and Charlie too, as I think I told you?” Lauren’s nod confirmed that. “But I do have a tendency to mother, even with my friends, so I’m happy to be reminded…”

“It’s a hard balance to strike.” Lauren looked thoughtful. “As a mother too. It’s sometimes hard to know when to run in and scoop them up and when to stand back and let them figure it out. You just have to do your best.”

They had reached Lauren’s front door and Lauren suggested that Hermione spread out a blanket on the front lawn and let Elliot snooze in the shade while Lauren fetched them some cool drinks. Hermione did just that, settling Elliot’s pushchair under a tree and pulling her cross stitch out of her bag for the first time in days. “Do you know,” she murmured under her voice to the sleeping child, “not three weeks ago, I was sat under a tree on a blanket doing this while I talked with your daddy.” 

“Is he well?” Lauren’s voice was quiet as she put down a tray holding two glasses of squash and a small bag and then settled herself onto the blanket, tipping out the contents of the bag to show Hermione a quilt square that she was working on. “I saw you from the window and thought I’d join you,” she explained.

“That’s lovely. Oh Gods, is that Ribena?” It was hard for Hermione to keep her voice quiet in her excitement when she noticed what was in the glasses.

“Yes,” Lauren laughed. “Isn’t that a wizarding thing?”

“It is not,” Hermione whispered back, “and my parents were dentists, so I was hardly ever allowed it at home either!”

“Well we don’t have it often at all,” Lauren admitted. “But now and again as a special treat…”

The two women each lifted a glass and toasted each other before Hermione answered Lauren’s earlier question. “Charlie? Yes, he’s well. He was on good form at my wedding, other than the fact that he was pining for you … which I don’t think he’ll mind me telling you, as he was very open about it. He sent you this, by the way.” Hermione reached into her bag and handed Lauren the box and card.

Lauren took it and nodded slowly, her fingers playing with the ribbon on the box as she looked at Elliot. “Should I be concerned about what this news is going to do to him?”

Hermione put her glass down, carefully squishing the base into a bare patch of the lawn to make sure it wouldn’t tip over. “No,” she said firmly, though still as quietly as she could. “You really shouldn’t.” She paused. “Are you worried about that?”

Lauren sighed. “I don’t want him to feel trapped or obliged in any way.” She moved her hand to indicate Elliot. “It’s not like our little one was planned. I’m still not sure how it happened; I was using a diaphragm and the gel and it never failed before. And even if I could go back in time I wouldn’t change it, because I adore him, but it has changed my life and path and I’m aware it might do the same to Charlie.” 

“That’s for Charlie to figure out, though...”

“I know. I do know that.” Lauren stitched a bit more before continuing. “I suppose it just feels rather big, and sudden. Even though I’ve been wanting it for so long.” Her needle stopped moving. “In a way, I wish he would walk into the garden right now. I think it’s the waiting that’s difficult.”

Hermione wished she could do more, and she hoped that some part of Lauren’s emotional state was caused by her still having feelings for Charlie, but it was hard to know whether that was the case or not. “I do know how that feels. It was like that when I got married. But this time tomorrow, I’ll be back here and then you’ll be busy meeting Fred and seeing where we live and you’ll have Charlie in front of you before you know it.”

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Once Elliot woke, they had soup for lunch and then Lauren and Elliot went into the back garden to wave Hermione off as she apparated home. The twenty-four hours between her leaving and returning passed more quickly for Hermione, who was busy helping in the shop and finalising plans for the weekend, than it did for Lauren, but eventually Elliot’s cry of “whoosh” gave her notice that Hermione would soon be knocking on the back door. He had done the same thing just before Hermione had arrived the previous day, and Lauren made a mental note to ask Hermione whether it was possible that he could somehow sense nearby apparition.

As soon as the two women’s eyes met, Hermione could tell that Lauren was more than ready to get underway and she decided it would be kinder to Lauren to decline a cup of tea. Hermione knew from her own experience that it was sometimes less stressful to just start a journey than to wait around, and she slipped to the bathroom and sent a patronus to Fred to see if he could join them a bit earlier than planned. He promised to speed up his shopping and, when Hermione, Lauren and Elliot completed the short walk from the bus stop and entered the café, Fred was already there. Hermione’s heart leapt to see him leaning against the counter and chatting to another wizard who Hermione recognised as having been in his year at Hogwarts. She was still, even after three weeks, getting used to the knowledge that they were together forever. 

As soon as he saw his wife and another woman holding hands with a redheaded child, Fred excused himself and strode over towards the table where Hermione was settling them and their bags. He smiled and nodded to Lauren and blew a kiss to Hermione as he made a beeline for his nephew.

“You must be Elliot! Hi!” Upon reaching the toddler, Fred immediately lowered himself to sit cross legged on the ground in front of the little boy, holding out his hand to shake. Elliot was charmed and offered his own hand in return. “I’m Fred.”

“Hi Fred … you have hair like me!” Elliot was excited and pulled a strand of hair from his own head to show his new friend.

“So I do!” Fred copied the gesture and tipped his head toward Elliot so they could show Lauren and Hermione.

“Well fancy that,” said Hermione. “It’s almost as if you were related.”

Lauren tried to suppress a laugh, for the sake of not making Elliot think there was anything wrong with that idea. “I won’t get on the floor with you just now, but I’m Lauren, hello Fred,” she offered her own hand to Fred, who took it, bowed, turned it and kissed the back.

“Is that a normal wizard greeting?” Lauren asked, looking between them both.

“No,” said Fred. “That’s my idea of being charming and politely reserved. Come tomorrow, we’ll all be hugging you and lifting you up off the floor as if we’ve known you for years…” He gave Elliot another grin and was rewarded when the toddler sat on the floor in front of him, trying to work out how to make his own little legs cross to match Fred’s.

“Good to know,” Lauren smiled, and Hermione felt happy. She hadn’t thought for a moment that Lauren and Fred wouldn’t hit it off, but the way they were immediately relaxed around each other gave her increased hope for Lauren’s integration into the family. They watched Elliot with amusement. Fred was helping Elliot figure out how to move his legs to sit in the same position that Fred was. “How to spot the child of an academic,” Lauren said to Hermione in a quiet voice that was full of amusement. “Could form full sentences and name and classify every type of animal before the age of two, but still doesn’t have full limb control…”

“Oh we’ll soon sort that out,” Fred’s voice was equally quiet as he looked up at Lauren. “Six uncles and acres of trees…”

“Six? I thought you had a sister in there?”

“We do,” Fred replied with a smile. “I’m counting her fiancé Harry. He’s like another brother, especially to ‘Mione here…”

“Are you ready to floo right away?” asked Hermione, “or do you need a cup of tea while you wrap your head around the idea?”

“Is there tea at your house?” Lauren hadn’t thought about this – she could have popped some teabags in her bag – and it then occurred to her that she hadn’t asked much about food either.

“Of course,” said Fred, looking shocked. “We’re quite civilised really, you know!” Lauren was momentarily startled, worried that she had caused offence, and then he gave her one of the Weasley twin trademark winks, causing her to laugh. “We have regular tea and several herbal varieties; we’ll have eggs and bacon for breakfast in the morning but we also have toast and marmalade or cereal if you prefer; I can make fruit smoothies with my wand if you want to go the healthy route,” he waggled his eyebrows, “and I think you know that I am proposing to go out and get us all fish and chips for dinner tonight, and I’ll even get them from a non-magical chip shop if you want.” He looked pleased with himself for having reassured Lauren.

“Well, it sounds like you’ve got it all covered, though I’m happy to try magical fish and chips,” she grinned. “We should just go. I’ll only keep asking questions that’ll likely be answered when we get there…”

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Hermione. “Now, the first step is to see if Elliot will let Fred carry him?” She crouched down to address the little boy. “Can Fred carry you on a ride to our house? Mummy will be right behind you?” Elliot nodded. He liked his new friend Fred. Hermione turned to Lauren, holding her arms out for Lauren’s things. “I’ll wear your backpack and Elliot’s baby carrier, so you don’t need to worry about them. If Fred takes Elliot in his arms and goes first, then I can help you leave and he’ll be there for you when you step out. I’ll be right behind you. Does that sound OK?”

“I’d rather Elliot was in your arms than mine, to be honest,” Lauren said to Fred. “I’d be worried that he’d pick up my nerves.”

“No nerves here, love; he’ll be fine with me, I promise. Been doing this since I was his size.” Hermione was grateful for Fred’s ever-present confidence. “And when you arrive, don’t be afraid to take my hand or put your arms around me and let me steady you; it can be disorientating the first few times and there’s no shame in leaning on a friend.”

“OK…” Lauren nodded. She still didn’t look certain, but she knew that delaying this wasn’t going to help.

“Right then, young sir; shall we go for a ride?” Fred stood up and then held his arms down towards Elliot, who held his own up in response. With the bags arranged and Elliot settled securely on Fred’s hip, they all walked towards the fireplace, nodding a thank you to the café owner. “We’ll see mummy in just a few moments,” Fred told Elliot, as he dropped some coins into the pot and took a handful of powder. He stepped into the fireplace, threw the powder down, stated his destination and disappeared into the flames.

“Don’t think too much about it,” advised Hermione, seeing Lauren’s face. She poured the right amount of floo powder into her friend’s hand. “Do exactly the same as Fred. Speak clearly. You’ll feel yourself spinning, then you’ll slow and see Fred. Take his hand and step out of the fireplace towards him. I’ll be right behind you.”

“With a gin and tonic in your hand?” Lauren managed a smile.

“I’ll do one better; I’ll introduce you to firewhisky as a reward. Go…” Hermione was smiling, but she knew it was kinder to encourage Lauren than to let her delay and become anxious.

The flooing experience wasn’t as bad as Lauren had feared, although it was dizzying and she was glad of Fred’s words about not being afraid to take his hand as she stepped into the flat. “One more step, love,” he encouraged her, putting his free arm around her to steady her against his side while still hugging Elliot on the other. He needed to clear a path for Hermione to step out. 

As she did, right behind Lauren, she quickly put down the things she was carrying and went to Lauren’s other side. “OK?”

“I’m good, thanks; just a tiny bit dizzy.” She looked at Elliot, who had a broad smile on his face.

“Good ride, Fred,” he announced, patting Fred on the arm. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, mate,” Fred replied. “We can do that lots.” He looked at Lauren. “Welcome to our flat. Shall I show you around while Hermione puts the kettle on?”

“Actually, I promised Lauren a firewhisky!” Hermione raised her eyebrows at Fred. 

“We can do that too!” He chuckled, remembering a conversation from their honeymoon. “What did you say was on my mum’s list of excuses to drink in the daytime?”

“Christmas morning, family crisis and parent-child sex talks,” Hermione told Lauren under her breath so that Elliot wouldn’t hear.

“Does one’s first flooing count as a family crisis?” Lauren asked as she tested her footing and began to follow Fred, who was still carrying Elliot, towards the kitchen. 

“If it doesn’t, then it should. Oh Gods, that’s a good thought…” Fred stopped in his tracks and turned back towards the fire. 

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“I’d better shut the floo. George knows not to come up and we piled a load of boxes on the stairs this morning so we won’t get unwanted visitors that way before Charlie arrives, but we don’t need Gin or Ron unexpectedly flooing in before he gets here…”

“This is just one reason why I love Fred,” Hermione said to Lauren. “He likes everyone to think that he’s all spontaneity and pranks and surprises, but secretly he thinks ahead almost as much as I do! He swore the cafe owner and his friend to secrecy as well, so they won't say anything about us meeting you there.”

Lauren laughed and watched Fred as he pointed his wand towards the fireplace and made a movement that cast the spell to close the floo connection. Elliot watched carefully and then made the same movement at the fireplace with his own hand, pretending that he, too, was holding a wand.

“Wow,” Fred said, impressed at the toddler’s ability to copy the movement. “We’ll need to watch where we put our wands down … that was nearly perfect!”

“He’s got prefect written all over him,” Hermione grinned to Lauren, who already looked much more relaxed. “I’ll show you George’s room and where everything is and then we can settle Elliot and Fred in our room in plenty of time before Charlie gets here.” She cast a spell with her own wand to see what time it was. “Half past three; plenty of time to relax and get ready.”

Lauren swallowed. It was nearly three years since she had seen Charlie Weasley. She must have thought about him a million times between then and now, and – she took a deep breath – in a little under two hours’ time he would be back in her life again.


	22. Meeting on the roof...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so the long-anticipated reunion! I have no idea why, but I feel nervous about posting this ... possibly because I know so many people are invested in it. Please be nice if you decide to comment! And enjoy :-)

Lauren Bennett stood on the roof garden of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes and looked out over Diagon Alley. It hadn’t taken her long to learn her way around the flat, settle into George’s room and unpack her things. Having ensured that Elliot was settled and happy playing with Fred in his and Hermione’s bedroom, she decided to go and sit in the roof garden and take some deep breaths while waiting for Charlie to arrive. 

And it was the right decision. The garden was private enough that, if you were sat on the sofas, stood at the barbeque or tending Hermione’s herbs, you couldn’t be seen from the Alley. But if you squeezed between the planters and leaned forward over the wall, you could both see and be seen by those on the other side of the road. It was a good spot from which to contemplate life, and that was just what Lauren needed to do. Her feelings about Charlie were confused. Lauren suspected that she wouldn’t truly be able to make sense of them until the two had met and shared several conversations, given everything that had passed since they had last been together and the revelation that they lived in what were essentially two different worlds. But even though less than forty-eight hours had passed since she had learned that she would be able to see him again, Lauren was finding it difficult to wait for those conversations to begin.

She played her fingers through a box of lavender, enjoying the gently wafting scent of the flowers as she watched the wizarding world below. By this time of the day, the Diagon Alley foot traffic had slowed. The shoppers had departed, and most of those who would be going out for the evening were still at home getting themselves ready. Lauren watched the book shop owners bring in their signs and lock up, her mind still finding it hard to process seeing them using magic wands rather than keys. 

Spotting a teenage witch and wizard who were walking together, clearly dancing around each other in flirtation, Lauren smiled to herself at the evidence of their young love and wondered again how her story with Charlie was going to progress. Their time together had been about physical enjoyment and conversation rather than love or a desire for commitment. They had both been at a key point in their career and, by mutual agreement, had come together to enjoy each other’s company and their young bodies. The intellectual spark that flared between them during their late-night conversations was an unexpected bonus, but neither of them had made any promises and neither had desired or asked for promises to be made. So there was no telling what might happen now.

Finally, Lauren didn’t have to wait any longer for the next chapter to begin. As she watched the young magical couple pass the book shop, she heard the roof door swing open and a series of loud heartbeats tumbled over each other to fill her chest when she heard a deep voice behind her saying, “Hello, lovely.” 

Turning carefully, because tripping over while navigating out of the tight space between the planters wasn’t going to set quite the tone she was aiming for, Lauren felt awkward for about two and a half seconds before the most enormous smile crossed her face at the sight of Charlie Weasley. “Hello, gorgeous,” she replied, her voice full of emotion as she picked her way back out before taking the few short steps across the wooden floor to meet him halfway and step into his open arms.

Goodness, she had forgotten how good he smelled. As Lauren closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to Charlie’s chest, his arms spiralled and tightened around her; the left one winding down towards her left hip and the other wrapping around her shoulders so he could hold as much of her as close to him as possible. “Oh, love,” he said. “Fuck. Fuck.” She wrapped her own arms around his back. Charlie wondered if he was going to pass out with happiness. After a long hug, Charlie pulled back slightly, his eyes searching Lauren’s face. “I thought I’d lost you forever!”

“Charlie Weasley...” Lauren’s voice was quiet, but her smile hadn’t faded. “To mangle the words of a woman you’ve probably never heard of, I don’t know whether to hit you or kiss you.”

Charlie nodded, reaching for her hair and playing the short curls through his fingers as he continued to gaze into Lauren’s eyes. “I – I wanted to find you … so badly, but I didn’t know how, and then things got crazy…” He was beginning to tremble with shock and emotion.

Lauren was feeling just as shaky and emotional. “It’s OK. Let’s sit down,” she said, indicating one of the benches which sat either side of the wooden table, strewn with brightly coloured cushions. She stepped back and took his hand in hers, pulling him to sit on the bench beside her. “I wasn’t sure if Charlie was even your real name. I searched everywhere. There’s no-one with that name in the whole of the south-west of England.” 

“It really is my name. But you won’t find records of me or any of my family. Only Hermione, because she has muggle … well, because her parents aren’t magical. Mine are, and have been for generations, so it’s like we don’t exist to you.”

“You’re a wizard, Charlie.” She spoke slowly; it was half statement, half question.

He nodded and bit his lip. “I’m so sorry…”

Lauren’s smile really was irrepressible, and for a second it reminded him of Fred and George. “Why? I don’t suppose you can help it! Isn’t it congenital?” she teased.

“Well, yes,” he conceded, a sheepish grin crossing his own face. “I mean I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Her smile became wistful. “It was a holiday fling, though. For both of us. Why would you need to tell me?” She squeezed his hand in reassurance that he hadn’t done wrong by her. 

“Yeah, but when you left, that’s when it hit me.” He looked into her eyes. He had been waiting for this moment for nearly three years and, having found her, he wasn’t going to waste any more time. “I realised it could have been more than that for me, sweets. But you’d gone by then…”

Lauren nodded, unsure of what to say. She was trying to make this go well for both of them but she still didn’t know how she felt; she didn’t know whether this could be more for her; she didn’t know whether that was even possible, given their differences. Charlie didn’t yet know about Elliot, and Elliot was her number one priority. The situation was complicated, and Lauren decided to steer the conversation away from feelings for now. “Well from what Hermione said, telling me you were a wizard wouldn’t have been an option anyway…”

Charlie shook his head. When he had bounded up the shop stairs and into the flat, he had seen Hermione for approximately forty seconds. That was the time that it had taken her to greet him at the door, give him a hug, help him out of his backpack and lead him to the bottom of the roof staircase, urging him to not make himself or Lauren wait any longer. So he still had no idea how Hermione had got permission to tell Lauren about his magical status other than that Minerva McGonagall had advised and helped her. But knowing the ins and outs of that was hardly his priority and there would be plenty of time for him to find out how the two clever witches had managed it later.

“Well I’m still sorry, love.” Charlie’s voice cracked as he continued. “There’s not a day when I haven’t thought about you. Wished I’d realised how I felt before you left. You’ve turned me into a wuss, Lauren Bennett!” 

Lauren raised her eyebrows at him but decided to save her comment on cultural masculinity norms for another day. 

“I’m serious!” Charlie continued, rolling his eyes at her in jest. “I cried like a bloody baby after you left … I was worried I’d never see you again and I realised that I probably wouldn’t ever find another woman who made me feel the way I felt when I was with you. We didn’t have a single muggleborn on the reserve at that point so I had no-one to ask to help me. By the time I did, that Christmas, you had moved. Never stopped thinking about you, even when things got crazy. Cried all over Hermione a few weeks ago, because her whirlwind romance with my little brother brought all my memories of you flooding back…” He was brimming with emotion now, and it was hard to tell which way it was going to go.

“Oh, come here, you.” 

Lauren’s motherly instinct took over and Charlie scooted forward into her offered arms. She leaned into his broad chest, still uncertain, but wanting to give him the comfort and reassurance of a hug. Lauren once more breathed in the scent of the man she thought she might never see again; the father of her child, though he still didn’t know that. Charlie needed no further encouragement and threaded his fingers further into her hair as Lauren’s heart swelled and she felt happy that he had finally come back into her life. 

For her too, their romance had been a holiday fling, until time and circumstances had made her face the fact that she might feel something different for the man she had left behind in Romania. But was it love, or hormones, or merely the fact that they had made a baby together? If Lauren had known then what she knew now, she might have got back on a plane and sought him out so they could figure it out together, but regret wasn’t going to help anyone now and she needed to move forward rather than dwell on what might have been.

Her body made it clear to her that she still wanted him physically, though. Possibly more than any other man she had ever known. And when Lauren pulled back and looked into Charlie’s damp eyes again, she knew he was going to kiss her and that, even though it might not be the sensible path, she wasn’t going to stop him. Just this once. So, as he had done the first time they had kissed, high in the Carpathian mountains, Charlie took both of her cheeks into his hands and pulled Lauren’s face gently towards his, asking for permission with his eyes. Lauren moved her hands to the back of his neck and her fingers wove themselves into his hair as their lips met.

They both made a slight moaning sound as they reconnected after such a long time apart. Heads tilting, mouths slanting, they opened themselves to each other; tongues exploring and tangling; each remembering the feel and taste of the lover they hadn’t been able to forget. One of Charlie’s hands moved over Lauren’s curves, exploring the seams of her dress and playing with the beads that hung near her breasts. The other never ceased cradling her cheek. Her fingers traced the hard muscles of Charlie’s shoulders and back. He groaned, more loudly this time, as she stroked gently up and down his spine. 

Whole minutes passed while they kissed and touched; hands everywhere and lips moving to necks and earlobes and collarbones before returning, more slowly, to meld their mouths back together. More relaxed now that they had gently marked each other with their touch and scent and taste, they settled softly together, moving to a corner of the bench and nestling close.

Lauren gave Charlie one last kiss before pulling back, knowing they needed to continue their conversation. She reached for his hand. “Hi,” he said, as if seeing her again for the first time.

“Hello, gorgeous,” she replied, folding her legs up on the bench beside her. “Thank you for the chocolates,” she said, remembering the sweet note that he had sent her with the treats.

“You’re welcome. Are you OK, love? How have you been?” His tone was soft. “There’s so much I want to say to you, and ask you, and now I’m here I don’t know where to start.”

“I know, Charlie. But now you’re here, it feels like we were never apart. There are big things I need to tell you too.”

Charlie tipped his forehead to meet Lauren’s. He looked deeply into her eyes.

“Can I go first?”

She nodded, moving her hand to his leg. “Of course.” Given the bombshell that she was going to drop on him, Lauren thought, letting Charlie say whatever he needed to first really was the least she could do. 

His eyes never left hers. “In case I haven’t made it clear enough, I fell for you, Lauren Bennett. I don’t know when it happened, but it did. It won’t go away. I don’t want it to. And I don’t know if you can find space for me in your life, or whether you’d want to come to my world and share mine … I don’t know if or how this could work, but I want it so much. I know I need to make it up to you, but please give me the chance to do that; I want to be with you.”

“Charlie, I really like you too, and I’m so glad to have found you again. But it’s complicated...”

His face fell. “I know, love. Sorry.”

“There’s more I need to tell you before we can make any decisions like that.” She wanted to ease him into the news.

“You’re not married though? Hermione said you weren’t.” Oh, please don’t let there be another man, Charlie thought.

“No, I’m not married. No boyfriend, nothing like that.”

“That’s good, then. All I want is a chance at wooing you properly this time.”

Lauren raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Don’t you remember our late-night chats? About me not being the kind of woman who goes for all that?”

“Remember it?” Charlie chuckled softly. “I lectured Hermione on some of it before she got married. You’d have been proud of me, love!”

“I’m sure I would.” Lauren was softly stroking his hand now, almost without realising, and Charlie took heart from that. “But you do realise this is exactly the kind of romantic scenario that I deconstruct in my lectures and warn people against believing in?”

A soft laugh, and then he leaned forward and kissed her lips, very softly. Pulling back, he whispered, “Is that so?”

“I can’t go back to my students and tell them a gorgeous, magical dragon keeping wizard strode out of the mountains and carried me off into the sunset, can I?”

He kissed her again. “Maybe you should just come back to Romania with me then, and then you won’t suffer the embarrassment of having to tell them you were wrong about fairytales and happy endings.” This was the Charlie she remembered; bright, fun to banter with, easy to talk to. Oh, how she wanted him. 

But it wasn’t as straightforward as he made it sound. There was Elliot to consider, for a start. Not to mention the fact that Charlie was a wizard. Lauren pulled back and shook her head. “Charlie, I’m so sorry, but it’s not that simple.” She spoke quietly, as if to herself.

Charlie looked concerned. “What is it, love?”

Lauren sighed, and Charlie suddenly realised that she wasn't smiling anymore. “Well for a start, we live in two completely different worlds. How could that even work?”

Charlie wished Hermione hadn’t stayed downstairs to give them space. As a muggle-born witch, she might be able to answer that better than him.

“Honestly, love? I don’t exactly know. But I have to believe it can. I’ll give up my wizard life and learn to live in your world if it’s the only way, just as long as I can see my family. Or you could tell people you’ve moved abroad and then come back to visit your family and friends? I don’t know...”

She sighed again. “I don’t have much family nearby. And friends, well there are a few people, but that’s not really the issue. Charlie … there’s something you need to know. Something big. I have to tell you before we go any further. It complicates things, Charlie.”

“What’s that, love?” He looked concerned. Was she ill? Was she about to take a job abroad?

“Don’t be worried; just let me get it out.” She took better hold of his hand. “Charlie, that summer… When I got back home from Romania … I found out that I was pregnant…”

“Pregnant?” Charlie’s eyes grew wide. “Did I get you pregnant?” Lauren nodded. “Oh fuck, love … oh gods … what happened?” His stomach churned in shock, his free hand flew to his hair and he started raking his fingers through it in worry.

“It’s OK,” Lauren reassured him, as she took a photo from her pocket, which she had put there ready to show to Charlie. “This happened, Charlie. This is Elliot … he’s your son.” 

She paused, to check whether he was following along. After a moment or two in which he stared at the photo and seemed to be processing her words, Charlie looked directly into her eyes to check if he had understood correctly.

Lauren brought his hand into both of hers as she spoke again. “You’re a dad, Charlie Weasley.”

It took an age, and then Charlie breathed just one word. “Elliot?”

“Elliot Charles Bennett-Weasley.” Lauren spoke slowly, searching his eyes to try to read his response. But this situation was so unique, so like any other that she had ever even imagined. She had spent endless nights wondering about how she would feel if she ever found Charlie again, and not one moment of that thinking and wondering time had prepared her for the confusing reality of sitting next to the man who had given her the son who was the tiny love of her life.

Charlie was stunned. “You gave him my name? Even though you must have thought I was a complete git for not getting in touch?” He shook his head in wonder.

“I needed to give him the only part of his dad that I could at the time.” Her voice stayed soft; she was still piecing it all together herself, although she had had a bit more time to get her head around it as well as a great listener in Hermione. “I’ll admit I wasn’t certain of how I felt about you at the time. It was more that I hoped there would be a good reason for you not getting in touch. I thought I was being ridiculous, but I had to have hope to hang onto.”

A decade’s worth of emotions crossed Charlie’s face in just a few seconds. They culminated in a combination of disbelief and joy. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. This is...” His eyes were wide as he looked from her face to the photo and back again. “A son? Can I meet him? Where is he?”

Lauren couldn’t read the emotion on Charlie’s face, and was worried he might be angry that his family had met Elliot first. She nodded and swallowed. “He’s here, Charlie.”

Charlie looked around the rooftop garden, confused. Lauren’s short laugh went some way to breaking the tension that had been building.

“No, silly, downstairs in the flat. He’s with Fred, in the bedroom. I wanted to tell you myself.”

Charlie’s mouth opened. “Do they all know?” He had a sudden vision of his mother arriving, in full sail and ready to lecture him on his inappropriate behaviour.

Lauren shook her head. “No, he’s only met Hermione and Fred. George and his girlfriend know about Elliot, but they haven’t met him. Or me. Hermione met Elliot when she first came to meet me, of course; that couldn’t be helped, and Fred and George knew before she even got back home because of the bond...” 

Charlie nodded, trying to understand. “Yeah, of course…” It wasn’t reasonable to be upset, he knew; the bond was still too new for Hermione and Fred to be able to fully control it. Heck, less than three weeks ago he had had to physically carry Hermione away while Bill stopped Fred from following because they couldn’t control their connection well enough themselves. And Fred and George would never keep anything from each other.

Charlie tried to keep his focus on Lauren’s words as she continued explaining. “We needed Fred to carry Elliot through the floo system and babysit so I could meet you, but George said it wasn’t fair for anyone else to meet us before you, so he stayed out of the way. No-one else knows about Elliot. We’ve been really careful about that.” 

“It’s OK,” said Charlie reassuringly. “I understand. I’m not upset. I just … a son? Can I meet him? I really want to meet him.”

“I really want that too. We need to talk about one thing though?”

He leaned closer to Lauren. “I’ll do anything you ask, love…”

She smiled, wanting to ease the tension a little. “Really? You might want to be careful there, dragon boy…”

Charlie’s eyes grew soft and his hand reached for hers. “Love, I have a lot to make up to you. I don’t think I could say no to anything you asked, though I might need a bit of time to get my life straight first…”

Lauren’s head tipped to one side as she looked into his eyes. “You and I, well … we need to work out what we both want and if our worlds could even meet, but we’re grown-ups and we’ll figure that out, in time.”

Charlie murmured his agreement. He already knew exactly what he wanted with Lauren, and it began and ended with forever, but he could give her time to come to terms with his magical nature if that was what she needed.

“Charlie…” she continued, “please just promise me … if we tell Elliot you’re his dad, you’ll be there for him. I don’t mean you need to see him all the time, especially with you working abroad, but promise me you won’t start a relationship with him and then break it off. He’s so well grounded. I don’t want him confused or hurt by this. If you need more time to think about what you want, that’s fine. We can just introduce you as Charlie and not tell him you’re his dad yet.”

Charlie drew Lauren towards him, his voice thick with emotion, “Please, you can tell him I’m his dad. Please… I promise, love. I have so much to make up to him … and you. I’ve got no intention of letting you go if there’s anything I can do to keep you. I want to be a family, love, but whatever happens with us, I promise I’ll be there for Elliot. I want to be his dad. Gods, I have a son! Please, love…”

“OK,” she whispered back, squeezing his hand gently. “It’s OK, Charlie. Let’s go and see your boy…”


	23. Meeting Elliot...

Charlie gave Lauren his hand to steady her as she stepped onto the top of the steep stairs, and he followed her back down to the flat. As she reached the bottom, Hermione came out of the kitchen and raised her eyebrows, silently asking Lauren if everything was OK. Lauren nodded and smiled. “We’ve come to introduce Charlie to his son,” she told Hermione. Charlie stepped off the bottom stair and gave Hermione a big smile.

“Have I ever told you I love you?” he asked. 

“You have now,” she laughed, stepping into his arms to give him a hug. “I love you too. Are you OK?”

Charlie leaned in, though he spoke loudly enough that Lauren could still hear. “My head is spinning so fast I can’t keep up with all of this but, yeah, I’m very OK.” 

“They’re in the bedroom,” Hermione smiled at them both and then directed her next words to Lauren. “Elliot keeps asking to have a sleepover in our bed tonight. Which is fine with us if you’re alright with that, but we’ve told him he needs to ask you.” She looked at her brother-in-law. “And of course he might change his mind once he’s met Charlie...”

Lauren glanced between Hermione and Charlie. “I’m not sure what to say…”

“You don’t have to decide now,” replied Hermione, raising her hands to show that she wasn’t trying to add any pressure. “I just wanted to let you know.” She waved her arm toward the bedroom door. “Don’t let me keep you…”

Lauren entered the room first. Elliot was sat on the floor in between Fred’s long outstretched legs, his little back leaning against Fred’s tummy. Fred had transfigured some sort of terrain out of quilts and pillows and was making a small herd of soft toys ramble over it with his wand, bossily shepherded by Graham the pygmy puff. Upon seeing Lauren and Charlie enter, Fred spoke softly in the boy’s ear. “Hey bud, there’s your mum. I’m going to get us a drink. You’re in charge of Graham and the rabbits.” Elliot leaned forward and nodded, his face serious with the responsibility that had been bestowed upon him.

Fred gave Charlie a quick brotherly hug as he left. Charlie hesitated a bit, until Lauren led him further into the room. Now that this rather unexpected moment had come, the usually confident dragon keeper wasn’t sure what to do or say; he could only stare at Elliot in wonder. Lauren sat on the floor beside Elliot, crossing her legs and then patting the floor with her hand. Obediently, Charlie lowered himself to sit down on her other side.

“Mum!” Elliot was excited to see her.

“Elliot!” she used the same tone of voice and the toddler grinned. “How are you doing?”

“Good. Fred made a rabbit patch. That’s Graham.” He pointed to a small, moving ball of purple fluff. “And we read a book!”

“That’s brilliant. Hello Graham. Are you having fun, then?”

“Yes. Can I sleep in here? Miney said I have to ask you.”

“Maybe … I need to tell you something first though. And introduce you to someone important.”

Elliot turned to look at Charlie, as if only just computing that someone else was in the room. The redhead was still staring at his son in wonder and amazement. The little boy looked so like him, and yet he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “Hello. Who are you?” Elliot asked.

“I’m Charlie,” Charlie said, not quite finding his normal speaking voice.

“You look like Fred.” Elliot turned and reached out a hand to redirect a rabbit on its journey.

Charlie smiled. “Well Fred’s my brother. That might be why.”

Elliot turned back towards Charlie and stared for a moment, taking that in and looking Charlie up and down. “You have hair like me and Fred.”

Charlie fingered one of his own locks. “So I do, mate.” He looked at Lauren, not quite sure where to take this. The emotion of meeting a son that he didn’t even know about an hour ago was getting a bit much. Not for the first time that evening he hoped that his brother might have some firewhisky knocking about in the flat to calm the nerves that he couldn’t seem to suppress, not to mention the tears that he could feel pricking at his eyelids. Gods, he could throw himself around confidently in the vicinity of a thirty-foot dragon and yet here he was feeling anxious in front of a small boy.

“Hey gorgeous boy, come here…” Lauren reached out her arms and Elliot crawled up onto her lap. She turned him so he faced her, and stroked his hair. “I have something important to tell you, lovely. There’s a reason Charlie looks like you. It’s because he’s your daddy.” She paused between each sentence to allow it to sink in. “He’s been away for a while, helping … ummm…” she paused. It might not be a good plan to mention dragons for Elliot to announce to his friends back home, especially given his already well-developed love and knowledge of the animal kingdom. “Well he looks after big lizards, but for now he’s here and he really wants to meet you.”

“Like dinosaurs and dragons?” Elliot stared in amazement at Charlie, his wide eyes causing a smile to break out on his mother’s face. 

“Yes, I suppose a bit.” She’d just have to tell people that he was exaggerating when he announced this to his friends next week. 

“Wow!” Elliot’s eyes grew even wider and he looked at Charlie, impressed. Then his little hand reached out to touch Charlie’s face. “Why you crying?” he asked, with some surprise.

“I’m really happy to be meeting you, Elliot,” Charlie told him, tentatively reaching towards the little boy’s hand with his own. In response, Elliot leaned forward, holding both arms out to Charlie to be lifted off his mother’s lap and onto Charlie’s. Instinctively, Charlie did as his son bid, and scooped the little boy into his arms, holding him close to his chest. “Hi…” Charlie breathed in the scent of his son, his tears flowing freely now. Elliot rested his cheek on Charlie’s chest and patted him reassuringly. Lauren scooted closer and put her own arms around them both. 

“You’re going to make me cry too, Charlie,” she told him. Charlie’s only response was to lift one arm and bring Lauren closer into his side. He kissed her cheek, and she snuggled her face into his neck, kissing Elliot as she did. “This is all a bit much, isn’t it?!”

Charlie laughed and nodded and, for a few minutes, the little family just cuddled and held each other. Charlie stroked Elliot’s hair, marvelling again at how much the little boy looked like him and feeling an overwhelming desire to just hold his son and feel his presence. Elliot’s patience for that ran out after a couple of minutes though, and he pulled back slightly, looking into Charlie’s eyes. “What colour are your dragons?” he asked, and Charlie gave a big, deep chuckle.

“Well…” He looked at Lauren for direction, realising that this might be hard for her to explain when they returned to their usual world. But she nodded and shrugged, letting Charlie know it was OK to answer. Elliot was already known amongst their friends to have a keen mind and an active imagination. She would figure out the explanations later. “Let me think. Some are grey, some are brown and some are green,” he told his son.

“Are any purple, like Graham?” Elliot asked seriously, pointing to the pygmy puff.

Charlie considered that for a moment. “No, not that I’ve ever seen. Their colours help them to hide a bit, in the forest and the mountains. Purple wouldn’t be very good for that.”

“I see,” Elliot said seriously. Then he touched Charlie’s arm. “Do you want to meet my rabbit too?”

Lauren smiled at Charlie. “Only special people get an official introduction to Mr Rabbit.”

Elliot scrambled off Charlie’s lap to collect his rabbit and bring it back to show his father, climbing back up onto Charlie’s legs to carry out formal introductions. Lauren took a deep breath; this had gone well so far. She tentatively picked up the little purple creature who was intent on following Elliot. “And this is Graham,” Elliot told his dad, carefully taking the pygmy puff from his mother’s hand and cradling it safely against his chest, just as Fred had taught him, so he could show Charlie. 

“Elliot loves creatures of all kinds,” Lauren explained. “I always suspected he inherited that trait from you…”

Charlie grinned down at her. “I’d say there’s more than a chance of that, love.” Turning back to his son, he felt the need to reassure him that he was staying around and would be in Elliot’s future. “I could take you to see more animals sometime, if you like?”

“Yes!” Elliot liked very much.

Lauren smiled up at Charlie. “Well, now you’re really won his heart.”

There was a soft knock on the bedroom door. “May we come in yet, or do you need a bit longer?” Fred asked, opening it just a tiny bit.

“Of course you can come in; it’s your bedroom,” said Lauren, smiling widely.

“Yes, but it’s your moment,” replied Hermione, who appeared behind Fred with a tray of champagne glasses. For Lauren’s sake, she had decided to carry rather than levitate them. “We don’t want to intrude but we had this in the fridge, left over from our wedding and we thought maybe you might like to celebrate this moment … and also we reckoned the two of you could probably use a drink…”

Charlie rolled his eyes before he wiped them. “Seriously, you are the best sister-in-law ever!”

“Well this one was Fred’s idea; I just carried the tray!” Hermione squatted down so that Charlie and Lauren could take a glass each. She had brought another for Elliot; a transfigured plastic champagne flute filled with sparkling water, so that he also had bubbles, and Fred took it from the tray and helped the little boy to hold it. Elliot gave him the biggest smile. It was clear that he had inherited the friendliness and exuberance of both his parents.

“He’s my daddy,” he told Fred proudly, patting Charlie’s chest again and bringing fresh tears to the older man’s eyes.

“That is so great,” said Fred, a bit close to tears himself as he took his own glass in his other hand. “You’ll be able to go to the park with him.” He leaned down and gave his brother a quick squeeze around the shoulders.

Elliot nodded. “We’re going to see animals.” Not needing a response from Fred, Elliot leaned forward to take a sip of his drink and then sneezed. 

Lauren tried not to laugh too much, but the sheer relief that she felt tumbled out in a relieved chuckle. “Not sure you’ve had fizzy water before…”

“I want to make a toast,” said Hermione, putting the tray on the floor as she raised her glass. “To family…”

Fred slipped his arm around her as Lauren and Charlie looked at each other before meeting Fred and Hermione’s eyes in turn and toasting each other. “To family…”

“I still want to sleep with Fred and Miney,” Elliot told Charlie seriously. “And Graham.”

“Graham’s the real draw, it’s got bugger all to do with us…” Fred whispered to his brother.

“OK,” Charlie laughed. He reached forward and touched his son’s cheek with his fingers, still not quite believing what was happening. He understood that they needed to focus on Elliot’s needs, not his own. “I’m cool with that, but your mum’s in charge.”

Lauren looked at Charlie. She felt much more relaxed now than she had an hour ago. They still had a lot to discuss, but thus far it had gone well. The idea of an evening of takeaway and wine now sounded really good. And after that? She had no idea. The thought of spending the night in Charlie’s arms while Elliot stayed with Fred and Hermione was beyond appealing on a physical level. But Lauren knew that probably wasn’t a good idea. She wasn’t entirely sure it was fair to have kissed him on the roof, but there was no sense spending energy on regret. Charlie was clearly ready to commit to a relationship right now, but Lauren wasn’t sure if and how that could work. But then, if she didn’t talk to Charlie about it, she would never figure that out, and she was being offered the perfect chance to begin that conversation. 

“Is that what you’d like?” she checked with Elliot, who nodded seriously. She made up her mind and mimicked Charlie’s tone. “OK then. We’ll see how you feel at bedtime, but I’m cool with it if it’s really OK with Hermione and Fred.”

“We’d love to,” said Hermione. “Just be aware that George will be over for breakfast first thing tomorrow. Ange works on a Saturday and he’s in the habit of coming here. He’s desperate to meet you both, though.”

“I’d love to meet him too,” said Lauren. “If there really are that many of you then it’ll be easier to get everyone’s names straight if I meet one new person at a time.”

“I’ll find you a Weasley family photo,” promised Fred, “and you can swot up ahead of time. Though you’ll recognise George without; he’s the one who’s just an ear less good looking than me!”

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

“Lauren, Fred and I are going out for a walk to get dinner in a bit.” 

After their toast, Hermione and Fred had left the three of them alone again, but Hermione wandered back into the bedroom a while later once she saw that Charlie was carrying Elliot up to the roof to show him the view and see if they could spot any early evening bugs on the flowers. She began collecting up the champagne glasses – again by hand, so as not to overface Lauren with too much magic all at once – and setting rabbits back in the corner of the room, careful to pick Elliot’s special bunny up and tuck him into the bed. She didn’t want to cast a finite and transfigure the other rabbits back into whatever Fred had made them from just yet, for fear of freaking out their visitors. “You could join us if you liked, or all stay here, or we could take Elliot if you and Charlie want a bit more time to chat alone? Fred’s good with kids; he’s had lots of practice.”

Lauren nodded. “I can see that. I’ll check with Charlie but I think Elliot would love an outing, and if I give him a wash and put him into his PJs first, he’d probably drop off in his carrier. It’s not far off his bedtime anyway.”

“Great. If Fred carries him, there’s no chance Elliot will get cold; Fred’s a human radiator!”

A short while later, they were all set. Charlie had agreed that it would be good for he and Lauren to have a bit more time to talk together and, back in the living room, Lauren helped Fred put Elliot’s carrier on and the freshly washed, pyjama-clad Elliot in. The little boy – who had loved having his dad help him have a bath and get ready for bed – wanted to face his other new redheaded friend and settled down with one pudgy hand curled around the straps of his carrier while he patted Fred’s shoulder with the other. “Gee up, Freddie,” he was saying, kicking his feet back and forth, keen to go on his next adventure. 

“You get to ride a bit higher than usual tonight, lovely!” Lauren said to her son as she stood on tiptoes to say goodbye. Fred was more than a foot taller than her, and he bent down to allow Elliot to lean over and give his mum a kiss. She wondered whether she should suggest that he kiss Charlie too, torn between encouraging their relationship and allowing Elliot to take it at his own pace, when Elliot himself made a decision.

“Bye, Daddy!” he said to Charlie, opening and closing his fingers in a wave. Charlie made the same movement with his own hand; Elliot addressing him in that way was more than enough for now. Not for the first time that evening, Lauren was grateful that Elliot had always been so open to new friends; had he been a shy child, things could have gone very differently. Still, she mused, he had his moments and Charlie would no doubt get to experience a full-blown temper tantrum before too much more time had passed.

“Good practice, eh?” Charlie teased Fred as they left, before turning back to Lauren. Fred winked. He was more than ready for fatherhood, and the only thing holding him back was his love for Hermione and the knowledge that she needed more time. Hermione was secretly rather enjoying playing families too, though, and she took Fred’s hand so they could all walk together. 

“Do you need money?” Lauren asked Fred, as they started for the door.

Fred grinned and shook his head. “Your money won’t work where we’re going,” he teased. “You said you were up for trying magical fish and chips, right?”

“Oh.” Lauren didn’t know what to say to that, and Charlie reached into his pocket, but Hermione stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

“We’ll get it, Charlie, don’t be silly. You can treat us next time.”

Charlie nodded and the three set off for the fish and chip shop, but Hermione stopped Fred halfway through the joke shop. “Fred, do you think I should cast a notice-me-not charm over you? If we walk down Diagon Alley like this, with a redheaded child, it’ll be all over tomorrow’s Prophet and Mum’ll be trying to floo over to the flat before we’ve even woken up.”

“I knew it was a good idea to marry a witch with a brain like yours,” Fred stood still so that Hermione could cast the spell on him. Elliot would be hidden too as a result, but they didn’t want to use magic on him directly without first asking Lauren. Suitably cloaked, they decided to take the long way round in order to give Charlie and Lauren plenty of time to chat. 

Back in the flat, Charlie sat down and patted the space beside him on the sofa. “How are you doing, sweets?”

“Honestly? It’s all completely surreal and I think I may have lost my mind, but you’re all lovely people and I’m warm and I’ve been promised chips and more wine, so I don’t care. It’s nice and cosy here, in my delusion. What about you, though, Charlie? You’re the one who’s become an instant father…” Lauren sat down, tucking her feet up underneath her again (for they wouldn’t reach the floor anyway) and settling back into the corner of the sofa.

“I know what you mean. A few hours ago, I was at home and in my normal life, which I admit is not very normal to most people even in my world, by the way, but it’s all I know, and now not only has my wildest dream come true in finding you again, but I’ve discovered I’m a dad...” 

Lauren gave a soft laugh. “You’ve got a new son in your life, I’ve got a crazy dragon keeping wizard in mine.” She went silent, her brain trying to run three different trains of thought at once. 

“Talk to me, draga mea…” She had forgotten the Romanian term of endearment that he used to use in the deep of the night, when they had lain together and looked up at the stars. It always sounded so sexy when he said it in his deep voice, and her thoughts drifted back to her last night in Romania; the night on which she was fairly sure they had conceived their baby boy.

“I’m fine, Charlie. It’s all a bit … big, but I’ve handled a lot over the past few years and we’ll be ok.”

“I like the sound of the ‘we’.”

She turned to face him. Charlie nearly leaned in to kiss her again, but he saw the serious look on her face and pulled back. “Charlie, I need some time to process this. I’m sorry, because I know you want to dive in, but I need to think about what this all means for Elliot, and … and the whole wizard world thing is quite a lot to take, to be honest.” 

“OK…” Charlie wasn’t sure where this was going yet, but he was going to listen hard and make sure he didn’t miss his chance. “Tell me more, love. Just talk to me; you can say whatever you want. I want to be here for you, no matter what.”

Lauren’s eyes flickered with so many emotions that Charlie couldn’t read them. “That’s the trouble, Charlie. I don’t know what I want. I mean, I do know some things, but I’m really conflicted.”

“Go on, love,” he encouraged, when she paused.

“I can’t deny I still want you physically, Charlie.” Her hand reached to settle on his leg. “I’ve never stopped feeling that way about you. But I don’t know if it’s fair to be with you in that way if you want something more and I‘m not yet sure. And you’re Elliot’s dad, so I want you in our lives; to see him as much as you want and have a relationship with us. I just don’t know how to go about bridging the two, or how it could work…” 

Charlie had forgotten how much he loved to listen to Lauren analysing things. He held her hand, giving her space, knowing that she would continue chatting it through to herself if he let her.

“Would making a commitment be such a bad thing?” he asked gently.

“You didn’t want that before, though; why do you want it now?”

Charlie shrugged. “Like I told you on the roof. After you left, I realised you had taken my heart with you. I wanted you before I knew about Elliot and now I want to help raise my son too. I want to make more babies with you, for us to be a family. I’m all in, whatever it takes, however long you need. Your world or mine, or both; we’ll figure it out.” Charlie had never felt so seriously about anything. He had been calculating possibilities and considering options ever since Hermione had told him that Lauren was alive, found and likely still single. And since hearing about Elliot, his processing had further increased. “But I’m not going to pressure you, sweets. It was me that left you in the lurch, albeit not intentionally, so I hardly have the right to call the shots…”

“It’s not about that, Charlie.” Lauren shook her head, looking a bit upset at his comment. “You know I’m not into game playing and point scoring and all that crap.” 

“I do,” he said. “I wasn’t meaning to suggest that, love.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath. 

“How did you feel about me when you found out you were pregnant?” Part of him was afraid to hear the answer, but he wanted to know.

“So conflicted…” There was a long pause, and Charlie again held space for her to think. When she continued, her voice was quiet. “I got home and … I thought I had fallen for you, and at first I was really cross with myself. I had only gone there to get a decent break before I went back into a new research project. Which I then had to rejig because I found out I was pregnant, which made me wonder if it was just the hormones that made me feel that way.”

Charlie winced. He really hoped that was not her final conclusion.

“Some nights I laid awake wishing I was back in your arms. Some nights I felt really cross with you for not having got in touch and because I couldn’t find you to tell you. Mostly I just felt so much love for our baby and I didn’t even know how I felt about you anymore. I was confused, Charlie, because my work is all about stories and I didn’t know what to make of our story. I didn’t know how I would tell it to Elliot when the time came, because I didn’t know whether I would ever find out the ending.” 

Tears were running down Lauren’s face now. “I couldn’t reconcile the loving, lovely man who made me feel so good and who I was sure would phone me up out of the blue one day and invite me for a drink – just as friends, sure, but that would be a great basis to be parents, I reckoned – with … with the man who just disappeared and couldn’t be found and who made me wonder who he really was...” She took a deep breath, trying to control her voice. “Charlie, I don’t know what I think or feel and I don’t know how to suddenly make sense of it and I’m sorry, but on top of all of this you’re all telling me you’re a bloody dragon keeper and my child is a wizard and I just don’t have a frame of reference for any of it.” She gave a deep sigh.

There was only one thing that Charlie could do. He stood, reached down, picked Lauren up and sat back down with her cuddled in his arms. Rocking her gently, he whispered into her ear, “I’m so sorry, love. It will be OK, I promise, I’ll help you in any way you need it, and no pressure from me at all.”

“No, I’m sorry…” Lauren tried to sit up and compose herself, but Charlie cradled her and made soft, back-of-the-throat roaring noises of the kind that he used on his dragons. “What are you doing, Charlie?”

“I’m reassuring you, sweets…”

She laughed despite her tears. “Is that noise reassuring for dragons?”

“Yup. The baby ones especially. Is it working for you?”

“Only because it’s so weird that it took my mind off everything else!”

“Hey, success is success, whatever the route...”

“Let me sit up and get a tissue, Charlie.”

“OK, but let me.” He produced a clean hanky from his own pocket and handed it to her, remembering the night, just a couple of weeks ago, when he had comforted Hermione after her pre-wedding nightmare. It seemed so long ago, and so much had happened since then. Was life ever going to progress at a normal pace again?

As Lauren wiped her eyes and blew her nose, they heard the faint jangling noise which indicated that Fred, Hermione and Elliot had re-entered the shop, giving them only a couple more minutes of alone time.

“Love, how about we talk more later? I really want to help you figure it out, and I promise not to put pressure on you.”

“OK, but if you and I spend the night together here then everyone’s going to think we’re a thing, including Elliot, and I don’t want that pressure for either of us.”

“That was never the plan. I’m sleeping on the sofa, love, or I’ll go to my mum and dad’s if you’d prefer.” She raised her eyebrows and Charlie rushed to reassure her. “I camp out all the time for work, and you should see the house Fred and I grew up in; it’s like musical beds … I can sleep anywhere.”

Lauren nodded. “It’s not that I don’t want you physically, Charlie…”

“I know, love.” He grinned. “I’m pretty hard to resist!”

Lauren raised her eyebrows and met Charlie’s gaze with a smile. “I remember…” Oh fuck; she needed to resist the temptation to flirt with him. But sitting in his lap, feeling his familiar body next to hers, it was so hard – no pun or reminder intended – to do that. Sighing, Lauren hoped she could soon reconcile the complex feelings she had for this man and her concerns about whether and how their worlds could ever merge.


	24. Fish, chips and kisses...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK lovely people, I am going to be travelling for the next few weeks. If I possibly can (and can get on WiFi), I will keep writing and uploading on schedule, but please be patient, thank you :-)

As good as it felt to be cuddled in Charlie’s arms, Lauren put her confused feelings aside and slipped off his lap as the door to the flat opened and Hermione and Fred walked in. Hermione closed the door softly behind them and they each put a bag onto the table. 

“He’s fast asleep,” Fred whispered. “Even the shop doorbell didn’t wake him … I didn’t think to turn it off.” He sat down on the other end of the sofa so that Lauren could see. Charlie tipped his head in wonder as he watched his little boy sleeping on his brother’s chest, thumb firmly in his mouth. He still hadn’t fully processed the fact that he had a son. Fleetingly, he wondered what Molly’s reaction to the news would be, and then pushed that thought down. He had enough to contend with tonight.

“He was already dropping off as we got to the Cauldron. We gave him a few chips so he wouldn’t wake up hungry. He’s been asleep on Fred for a while,” Hermione whispered to Lauren. 

“Good thinking … he’ll probably go through most of the night now,” said Lauren, moving next to Fred so she could slide the little boy out of his carrier and onto her own chest without waking him. 

“Thanks, Fred,” she told the much taller wizard when he held onto the straps and leaned toward her to make her job easier. “Now, do you really want him with you? He might wake and want me in the night?”

Hermione looked at Fred and then back at Lauren. “What do you think? He mentioned it again while we were out. I don’t mind bringing him to you if he wakes and needs you…”

Lauren shrugged. “Let’s try it then. I like to let him make his own decisions when he can, and he’s been pretty clear about this one...” Both she and Hermione turned towards Fred and Hermione’s room.

“Can I come?” asked Charlie.

“Of course,” Lauren said. “He’ll not wake now; he’s a good sleeper these days. Which is only fair, since he woke me up every couple of hours around the clock when he was a baby!”

The four of them went into Fred and Hermione’s bedroom and settled the little boy in the centre of the big bed, next to his rabbit. Charlie smiled to see Fred and Hermione’s bonding cord tied to the bed, and he caught Lauren looking at it too, no doubt wondering if it had significance. She didn’t ask though, imagining that it might well be a private thing between magical couples. 

Fred set up an extendable ear so that they would hear Elliot if he woke, putting the remote part behind his own ear and explaining to Lauren how it worked. “We modified them to work remotely for Georgie, after he lost his ear,” he said. “Sometimes he needs a bit of extra help. It’s a bit like a hearing aid, but he prefers to pretend it’s still a joke product, and I can go along with that.” Fred then scooped Graham up in his hand, allowing the little purple furball to get into the bed with Elliot as well. “Don’t get used to it, though,” he warned, pointing a long finger at the tiny, wide-eyed pygmy puff as he snuggled next to Elliot. “When you’re over that cold, you’ll be back down in the shop with the other puffs again.”

Hermione seriously doubted that Fred would make good on that threat. He seemed to be rather attached to Graham, and even Crookshanks accepted him as a family member and not something to chase, but time would tell. She noticed that Charlie was looking wistfully at Lauren and decided it was high time that she checked how he was doing. “Charlie, can you come and help me with the food in the kitchen? Fred, maybe you and Lauren could nip up and see whether you think it’s still warm enough to eat on the roof or if you’d prefer to enlarge the coffee table and eat in the living room?”

Thank Merlin for the bond. It allowed Hermione to signal to Fred that she wanted a bit of time to check in with Charlie, and he got that message loud and clear. Offering Lauren a hand onto the first of the stairs, he took their new friend up onto the roof and decided that she should have a three hundred and sixty degree explanation of everything that they could see, magical and muggle.

“This is new,” teased Charlie, as he followed Hermione into the kitchen. “Last time I saw you and my brother, I had to carry you away to prevent you from publicly jumping his bones.”

Hermione laughed. “We’re getting used to the bond … and we spent a week pretty much wrapped around each other on our honeymoon, so that helped a lot … it’s much more manageable now!”

“You sure you can cope with a night with the little guy in between you, though?”

“Course we can, Charlie. It’s important for you and Lauren to have some space, we know.” She started levitating plates out of the cupboards and onto a tray. “And,” she added in a quieter voice, “Fred loves kids but I’m not quite ready, so it’s great to have a nephew to borrow to keep him entertained!”

Charlie nodded, watching as Hermione added glasses, napkins and the salt and vinegar shakers to the tray. Frowning to try and work out what else they needed, she opened the fridge and reached for more condiments, which she handed to Charlie. Then she turned her gaze on her brother-in-law, speaking in a soft voice.

“How’s it going? And how are you doing?”

Charlie shrugged. “I’m OK, lovely. It was big enough to see Lauren again, and then massive to suddenly find out I’m a dad, but I’ll get there. I just hope I can do right by him.”

“You will, Charlie. You’ll be a great dad.”

“I hope so.”

“And what about Lauren?”

Charlie paused before answering. “We kissed on the roof … it was amazing. Like no time had passed. But she doesn’t know what she wants; she says she needs to figure it all out.”

Hermione stepped forward and wound her arms around Charlie’s waist. He leaned his chin onto her shoulder, allowing himself a deep sigh.

“I don’t know if she wants me, love. She says she still likes me in a physical sense and she wants me to be there for Elliot, but she’s worried our worlds are too different.”

“Oh, Charlie.” Hermione had hoped it would be more straightforward but, if she was honest, she wasn’t surprised. Lauren had only known about the existence of the wizarding world for a couple of days and, although Charlie’s feelings had grown in the time that they had been apart, their initial relationship had been a physical one without any promises of more. Hermione squeezed Charlie in a tight hug, wanting to convey love and support to him, and he got the message, squeezing her back. He held onto her and took some deep breaths, allowing her steady presence to calm him, and he would probably have held her for longer except for Fred’s voice interrupting them as he called through the roof hatch.

“We’ve decided it’s nice enough to eat up here, but we’re getting hungry. If you two are going to keep faffing about down there, can you send us the wine up, love? And maybe the olives; they’re in the fridge…”

“Don’t move,” said Hermione, stopping Charlie with a touch on his arm. “I’ll be right back.” She searched the fridge for the olives and popped them on the wooden tray. Then, picking up the bag of wine in one hand and using her wand to levitate the tray with the other, she sent both on their way through the roof hatch and up into Fred’s waiting hands. “If you and Lauren can open the wine and set the table, we’ll be up soon with the rest of the food.”

“Red, white or pink?” Fred asked Lauren, taking over the levitation and offering her an olive before arranging everything on the table. We didn’t know what you liked, so we got one of each. Or there’s butterbeer if you prefer?” He reached for a large olive and popped it into his mouth.

“How very decadent!” smiled Lauren. “I’ll have pink, please. I always think pink’s nice on a summer evening.”

“That’s very romantic of you,” grinned Fred. “Charlie’s a lucky wizard.”

Lauren’s face fell a bit. “I don’t know about that, Fred.” She spoke quietly as he poured them both a glass of wine. Lauren took hers from him with a nod of thanks and the took a sip before continuing. “I don’t know if I can give him what he wants…”

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry love,” Fred was embarrassed. “I have this habit of speaking before I think and putting my foot in it.” He touched her arm. “I didn’t mean anything by it…”

“I know, Fred; it’s OK. You’ve not said anything wrong. It’s just that this is all a bit sudden for me.” She swept her arm around the roof garden. “This … this is all everyday for you … levitating wine onto the roof and disappearing in a twist and making sparks come out of your wands. That’s great. I am awed by your world and by what you can all do.” She reached for another olive; glad of something familiar. “It’s very new for me, though, and I’m not sure how to make sense of it, and whether I can fit into it.” 

She gazed at the horizon before looking back at Fred. “Which is a bit ironic, because I’m an anthropologist, so I’m used to making sense of different cultures, but usually I at least know a bit before I study something. This time, I didn’t even know there WAS a wizarding culture, let alone that I had spent a summer and made a baby with someone who belonged to it. And now, well there’s the question of grandparents, and whether Charlie and I can make a life together and how I am going to cope with a child who can do magic and … do you know, Fred, I am genuinely one of the most open-minded people I know, and yet this is completely doing my head in!”

Fred looked a bit stunned as understanding dawned. He shifted from one foot to the other, wanting badly to help but, having gained insight into how weird the situation was for Lauren, he was unsure what he could say that would make any difference. 

But then it came to him. “Right, love,” he said, reaching into his robes. “This I can do.” He put his wand down on the table and showed her his palms. “Other than the ear,” he indicated the side of his head, “this will be a no magic dinner. I’ll make ‘Mione and Charlie give up their wands when they come up. That’s the least we can do.”

A smile broke out on Lauren’s face. In just that one gesture, Fred had reminded her of one of the main reasons that she hadn’t freaked out three years ago when she first found out that her child would be inheriting Charlie Weasley’s genes. He, and clearly this brother, were kindness personified, not to mention creative in their desire to help her to adjust. “You’re very thoughtful, Fred.”

He gave a quick bow of his head before grinning at Lauren. “Can you do me a favour and tell my mum that when you meet her? You won’t miss her; she’s the one who’ll be telling me off.”

That time, Lauren managed a laugh. “That will be my pleasure.” 

“And…” he spoke slowly, thinking his words through and not wanting to say the wrong thing. “Look, I do put my foot in it a lot, love, so this might be a crap thing to say - though, actually, just so you know, I am a fucking world class diplomat compared to our youngest brother Ron – but can I make an observation?”

“Please do, Fred,” she said. “I’m open to any words of wisdom, crap or otherwise.” Lauren took another sip of her wine.

“Well I know I’m a bit younger than you and not very experienced and all that, but I’ve been married to a bit of a worrier myself for three weeks now, so I’ve got some understanding … and it seems to me you might be thinking a bit too much.” He checked her face and, when she continued to look interested and not unhappy, he carried on. “I mean, you don’t need to know tonight how it’s going to work for the rest of your life. You just need to decide whether you’ll stay on pink wine or move onto something else. How many bits of fish. Ketchup or mayo. Whether you want to sit next to Charlie or me or ‘Mione. Just figure out the small stuff; the rest will come in time. Otherwise it’s going to do your head in.” 

Lauren’s eyes had softened. “Do you think Hermione would mind if I hugged you?” she asked Fred.

“Nah; she can sense my feelings so she’ll know we’re just being friendly,” he reassured her, opening his arms for her to step into. He realised that he needed to reach down a bit as well, as the top of her head barely reached halfway up his chest. “See, this is why it’s a good job you met the shortest Weasley,” he teased her.

She laughed. “Thank you, Fred,” she said to his chest. “I really needed to hear that.”

“Hear what?” asked Charlie, as he and Hermione climbed onto the roof.

“Oh, just some secrets about you that I thought Lauren had better know sooner rather than later,” Fred joked, giving Lauren one last squeeze before releasing her. “Put your wands down there, please.” He pointed to the wooden tray that was still holding the napkins and condiments as well as his own wand.

“Huh?” Charlie looked confused. 

“Well…” Fred looked at Lauren.

“You can tell them; I don’t want to have secrets from Charlie or Hermione,” she reassured him.

“Well Lauren’s finding it a bit hard to adjust to all our wizardy craziness, so I’m declaring this a muggle evening. Wands on the tray and we’ll behave like so-called normal people for once.”

Charlie and Hermione obeyed, and they spent a couple of minutes deciding who would sit where, but Fred’s inability to hide his desire to snuggle Hermione made the decision easier, and Charlie and Lauren ended up on the bench across from them. Fred took more wine orders and made a big show of manually pouring wine and handing Charlie and Hermione their glasses before unwrapping and sharing out the fish and chips, also by hand. 

As they settled onto their bench, Charlie looked at Lauren questioningly, to check she was OK with that arrangement. She touched his leg and nodded. “I’m feeling a bit better, Charlie. Your brother’s very wise. He helped me see that I don’t have to have all the answers right now. Or overthink things. I just need to decide how many bits of fish I want.”

Hermione laughed. “That sounds like a very Fred thing to say!”

Charlie reached out his arm, raising his eyebrows in a question. Lauren accepted his offer of a cuddle with a smile and curled up against his side. “That’s good then.”

Lauren raised her glass. “Here’s to new friends. And adjusting to new cultures.”

They clinked glasses before diving into their food. Fred kept them all entertained by telling the story of an escaped pygmy puff who George had had to chase around Diagon Alley for a good half hour earlier in the week, and then they caught up with Charlie’s news from the reserve. Although he tried to tone down the magical parts of his adventures, Lauren’s eyes kept widening in wonder when things slipped out. “Shall I stop, love?” he asked on more than one occasion.

“No,” she reassured him. “I want to learn about your real life, not just the muggled-down version you shared with me before…”

Fred laughed loudly at her phrase and Charlie opened his mouth to apologise again, but Lauren nudged him with her shoulder. “I’m just teasing, you big old silly ... tell me more about what your home is like…”

As he had promised, Fred ran downstairs after they had licked and wiped the last of the fish and chips from their fingers and returned with one of the still photos from their wedding which had been taken for Hermione’s parents. It showed the entire Weasley family and their significant others and he stood behind Lauren and talked her through it. “You already know Charlie, me and ‘Mione. That’s Georgie, of course, and Mum and Dad. Angelina goes out with George, Bill has the ponytail and he’s with Fleur who is French and very badass despite appearances, just so you know,” Lauren smiled, wondering if he was expecting her to remember all of this, especially after three glasses of wine. Fred continued to point. “And then Percy and Penelope, Ginny and Harry and then Ron, who prefers to be called Ronnikins.”

“Fred,” warned Hermione, laughing.”

“Well OK, but you should totally call him that when it’s just us.”

“Ron and Harry and I were in the same school year together; that’s how we originally all got to know each other,” Hermione explained.

“Saved the world, they did,” Fred said, proudly looking at his wife. Lauren looked a bit startled.

“Do you think that should perhaps go on the list of things to save for later?” Hermione pulled a face at him. They were working on getting Lauren to feel relaxed and detailing the craziness of the last few years of their lives probably wasn’t the best way to do that.

“Sorry, love.” Fred gave Hermione a contrite look and Charlie chuckled. “Long story, which we’ll tell you another day. All good now; nothing to see here.”

“We do need to have a bit of a chat about what to do about them though…” Hermione pulled an equally apologetic face at Charlie as she said that. She didn’t want to be the one to raise it, but it needed saying. “The family, I mean. Because we’re probably on safe ground until the morning on the basis that you two have only just met up again, so we don’t need to make any decisions tonight, but those of us who know about our newest family members are going to be given hell if you don’t tell them soon and they find out that we knew…”

“Shit,” breathed Charlie. “You’re right.” He looked at Lauren. “It wouldn’t have been as much of an issue if it was just you and me, love, but…” He broke off, imagining Molly and Arthur’s reactions to the news that they had a grandson.”

Fred nodded. “George’ll be here first thing, though he already knows, of course.” 

Hermione reached her hand across the table towards Lauren’s. “You don’t need to make a decision tonight. I was just meaning, well it’s something we need to think about in the morning.”

“I’d love to meet them,” said Lauren, looking at Charlie. “And I understand. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with them by keeping it from them. I just wanted to tell Charlie about Elliot first, and we’ve done that now. Tell them tomorrow, and I’d like to meet them if they’d like that. And Elliot loves meeting people, as you can probably tell.” She looked wistful for a moment. “I’m not sure he really understands what grandparents are though, just so you know … both my parents died before he was born.” 

Charlie scooped her closer when he heard that. “He’ll be the apple of their eye, love; you can’t even imagine…” 

“Where do they live?” Lauren asked. “And how would we get there if we visited? Would we floo, or should we go to mine and get my car?”

“Devon,” said Fred. “And any of those, or we could try you at apparition.” He winked, remembering what Hermione had said about Lauren wanting to save apparition until she knew them a bit better. “You’ve eaten and drunk and hugged with me now, so it’s OK to throw up on me, yes?” he teased. “Though now you’ve got Charlie here, you could go with him instead…” He was about to crack the twins’ usual joke about Charlie having had to take his apparition test a second time because he had landed on an elderly woman a few miles from his intended destination when Hermione sent a sensation through the bond to warn him. Nodding, he shut his mouth again; it would be unkind to add a layer of doubt to Lauren’s slowly growing confidence in the magical world.

Lauren did look a bit uncertain about the magical transportation options. “Can we decide that tomorrow as well?” she asked Charlie. 

“Of course, love. Tonight is just about fish and fun, though I’m wondering if I’m allowed to have my wand back and cast a warming charm if we’re staying up here?”

Hermione murmured in agreement. “It has got a bit nippy. Although,” she looked at Fred, sending another non-verbal message through the bond to explain her next words, “I’m feeling quite tired myself, so I might turn in after we’ve cleared up here.”

Fred got the message that she wanted to give Charlie and Lauren some more time alone. “Yeah, I’ll come with you, love. I didn’t get a chance to tell you in all the excitement, but Kings sent a letter over today to explain his plan for the next few weeks, so we could read that together before we go to sleep.”

“Good idea, sweetheart,” Hermione said as she stood from the table. 

“Thank you.” Lauren looked from one to the other. “I feel so much better.”

“It’s probably the wine,” Fred said, with a lopsided grin. He had been deliberately topping up her glass in the hope of helping her stay in the moment.

Lauren laughed, turning to Charlie. “These other four brothers of yours are going to have to be pretty amazing to knock Fred off the top of my favourites list.”

“See,” said Fred to Hermione. “At last! Someone appreciates me!”

“Lots of us appreciate you,” Hermione told him calmly, patting his hand. “But we know your ego’s quite big already so we try not to tell you very often.”

When Lauren stood from the bench, she realised that, actually, the wine had affected her more than she thought. The anticipation of seeing Charlie again and telling him about Elliot had curbed her appetite and she hadn’t eaten much during the day. Charlie saw her swaying a little, and took her arms gently in his hands. “Steady, love, let me help you.”

“We’ve got this,” Fred told his brother, and he cleared the table quickly as Charlie helped Lauren down the stairs.

“I should check on Elliot,” she said, and they tiptoed to Hermione and Fred’s bedroom door, opening it quietly to see their little boy tucked up in the bed. He was sleeping soundly with his rabbit under his arm and Graham sitting on his head, keeping watch. The little pygmy puff squeaked in excitement when he saw Charlie and Lauren moving towards the bed and Charlie smiled. 

“Settle down,” he whispered, scratching the little purple creature’s head before returning his gaze to Elliot. “I can’t believe we made a baby,” he said.

Lauren breathed out a quiet laugh. “That’s real magic, right?!”

“Too right,” Charlie replied.

They turned and smiled at each other and Lauren tipped her face towards Charlie. “Do you want to join me in George’s bed tonight?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Tempting as that is, love, I don’t think it’s a good idea…”

“Seriously?” she frowned, finding it hard to believe that he was turning her down.

“I’d love to join you,” he whispered into her ear. “And make you feel good all night. But the only thing that’s changed since we decided that that wasn’t a good plan is that you’re full of wine, love, so I feel it my duty to be the grown up and say I’ll stick to plan A and sleep on the sofa.” He began to lead her from the room and towards George’s bedroom door. “If that offer’s still open tomorrow, I’ll get into any bed of your choice and stay there as long as you want me to. Right now,” he kissed her cheek tenderly, “I’m kissing you goodnight before my hormones start a war with my gentlemanly reason.”

Lauren smiled. “OK, but would you give me a proper goodnight kiss? I won’t regret that in the morning, I promise.”

Charlie bent his head and their lips met. He had intended to keep it gentle, but that idea went out of the window as soon as Lauren found his tongue with her own. She tasted of wine and salt and forever, and it took everything Charlie had to retain control of his desire and not scoop her into his arms and carry her to her bed.

Fred and Hermione watched them quietly from the kitchen. “Do you think they have a chance?” Fred asked his wife in a whisper.

“I hope so. I think so,” she said. “Charlie understands that she needs time to adjust, and I think she’s got more chance than most of adapting to our world if she wants to.”

“It does look like she wants him…” Fred chuckled. He would have added more, but Hermione pulled him quietly to their bedroom, so as to not disturb the snogging couple. A few minutes later, as she and Fred were re-reading Kingsley’s letter over the head of their tiny sleeping nephew, they heard the soft click of George’s bedroom door and then Charlie’s footsteps padding back to the sofa on which Fred had left a quilt and pillow for him.

“We should say nox and go to sleep, love,” Fred said, snuggling down on one side of Elliot. 

“Mmmmm.” Hermione leaned over to collect a goodnight kiss before she settled down herself. “Are you tired?”

“Not massively,” said Fred. “But if more Weasleys are going to find out about our little man tomorrow, I want to be well-rested so I can enjoy the fun!”

Hermione laughed softly, stroking Elliot’s hair with one finger and then reaching her hand under the pillow so that she could entwine her fingers with Fred’s while they slept.


	25. An eventful morning begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate all the lovely comments that I'm getting on here and on other platforms, thank you :-) I am receiving lots of comments about what other people feel this needs to include and I want to just say that, yes, there will be more Fred/Hermione, and more Charlie/Lauren, and Molly will meet Lauren and Elliot and we will see Elliot being less well behaved and we will be picking up some of the loose ends and other pairings before this ends, but it isn't going to happen all at once. Just please, enjoy the ride and trust that I know where it's going :-)

Elliot woke at 5.53am and was delighted to see that Graham had remained faithfully beside him throughout the night.

“Miney!” He called to his sleeping aunt, patting her face until she opened her eyes. “Graham’s awake!”

“Good morning, Elliot!” she reached her arm out slowly and tickled his little tummy. “And good morning Graham!” She scratched the pygmy puff’s head with a finger. “Did you both sleep well?”

“Yes, and I had dragon dreams!” he told her seriously.

“What happened in those?” Fred’s early morning voice was deep and a bit rough from sleep, but Elliot didn’t notice.

“Fred!” He turned over and greeted his uncle happily. “I went flying on a dragon with my daddy! Can I see him again?”

“Your dad?” asked Hermione? “Yes, of course … I’ll take you to find him now.” Gathering the little boy into her arms, Hermione carried him into the living room where she found Charlie Weasley snoring on the sofa underneath one of Molly’s patchwork quilts. Crookshanks was splayed across his back.

“Daddy!” 

Crookshanks rose, arched his back and then sprinted away at the sound of Elliot’s voice. Charlie wasn’t quite as quickly roused, but after a few moments of confusion he had opened his eyes and then opened them more widely as he remembered the events of the previous evening and the fact that he had a son who was now bouncing on his legs and telling him about a dream in which they rode on a dragon together. 

Elliot’s excited shouts had also woken his mum. Just a minute later, George’s bedroom door opened and Lauren stepped out, tying the belt of her dressing gown. “Elliot!” she whispered loudly. “It’s early; you don’t need to wake everyone up!” She turned to Hermione. “Was he good?”

“We didn’t heard a peep from him until a few minutes ago, when he wanted to tell his dad about his dragon dream.”

“A dragon dream?!” Lauren sounded excited for Elliot, who opened his mouth to launch into the story. Hermione decided not to wait for a pause; touching Lauren’s arm, she said, “I’m going to try and snooze for a bit longer. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen; you know where the tea is. We’ll make breakfast when we get up but if you’re hungry before then help yourselves. Charlie knows how to work the stove…”

As she walked back towards her and Fred’s room, Hermione saw Charlie sitting up and making room for Lauren and Elliot under his quilt, and her hope rose again that the little family would figure things out and find a way to be happily together. Back in her own room, she cast locking and silencing spells, thinking that she and Fred could probably use another half hour of sleep before their day began.

Fred had other ideas though. Reaching for Hermione’s hip with his hand, he shut down his bond with George and kissed her neck. “Are we alone again?” he asked.

“We are. Unless you count Graham…”

Twenty seconds later, Fred returned from his own trip to the living room where he had deposited both Graham and Mr Rabbit onto Charlie’s lap. “Just delivering the rest of your family and friends, mate,” he winked. Getting back into bed, Fred reached again for Hermione, muttering, “now, where was I? Oh yes, about here...” he rolled on top of her, gently manoeuvring her onto her back and parting her legs with one of his own as he did. He kissed Hermione and then looked into her eyes. “Permission to come aboard for a quickie, love?”

“Cheeky wizard!” Hermione exclaimed. She put her hand on his shoulder, pushing him gently downwards. “You can come aboard for a quickie once you’ve used that cheeky tongue of yours to satisfy me!”

So he did.

Afterwards, Hermione laid in Fred’s arms as her breathing slowed. “Do you think it’ll ever be just you and me again? Like on our honeymoon?” she asked him.

Fred pulled her closer and kissed her head. “Honestly? I’m not sure it will for a while, but that’s been on my mind too. I wonder if I’m putting enough time into showing you how happy I am that you married me.” He trailed his finger in circles on her naked stomach.

“I don’t doubt that, Fred. And I love our family. But I like it when it’s just you and me, too.”

“Why don’t we try and find some time together this evening? As long as nothing else happens? Lauren and Charlie can have the flat to themselves, we’ll shut Georgie out and I’ll take you out somewhere lovely for dinner; how does that sound?”

“Lovely. That sounds lovely, Fred.”

Conscious of having visitors and some decisions to make, Fred and Hermione got up soon after that, saved time by sharing a shower and then joined their visitors and entertained Elliot so that Lauren and Charlie could each shower in turn. 

Charlie was just coming out of the bathroom when George came through the kitchen door, having apparated into a secret cupboard in the shop that only the twins knew about. It allowed the two of them to come and go even when the wards were fully in place. Charlie greeted his brother with a wave and a grin, gladly accepting the takeaway coffee cup that George had brought him. The two men shared a love for strong, dark coffee that none of their other siblings really understood.

Elliot had been slightly surprised to see George turn up, but after looking between him and Fred for about twenty seconds, he seemed to make a decision. From that moment on, and even when he couldn’t see the left hand side of their head and use George’s missing ear to distinguish who was who, Charlie’s little boy was able to correctly differentiate George from Fred. He looked from one to the other a couple of times, then pointed at George, looked at his mother and said “NoFred”. 

“That’s right,” said Hermione. “Lauren, Elliot, this is George. I probably don’t need to tell you who he is,” she smiled at Lauren, who laughed and held out her hand to shake George’s.

“Pleasure, love,” he said. “We’ve heard a lot about you. All good, but only recently. Turns out he’s a secretive old bugger,” his thumb indicated towards Charlie, who just smiled. 

“You’re telling me!” Lauren raised her eyebrows and Charlie quickly swooped in to offer her a reassuring cuddle with one arm while giving George half a hug and a thump on the back with the other.

“We’re OK now though, right?” Charlie looked at Lauren.

“I expect so, though that doesn’t get you out of all the washing up you’ve promised me. He’s been telling me he does it with his wand!” she told Hermione excitedly. The witch laughed, but not as much as her husband did.

“Does he now?!”

“Oh stop it,” Hermione playfully slapped Fred’s bottom, and then blushed as he raised his eyebrows and pulled a face which clearly indicated that he’d like to continue that game with her. She turned away, not wanting to encourage George to initiate Charlie into his new favourite activity of teasing Hermione and Fred about the effects of their bond and the frequency of their lovemaking. Much better if she could keep everyone focused on Charlie.

But Elliot was the centre of attention and was clearly fascinated by Fred and George. “Fred … NoFred …. Fred … NoFred,” he chanted as he pointed his finger at one and then the other.

“I am sorry,” Lauren was slightly embarrassed, but George was quick to reassure her. 

“I’ve been called much worse,” he laughed. “I’m not bothered, love, so don’t you be.”

Hermione and Fred looked at him. He was laughing on the surface, but they could both feel that he was tired and welling up with a different kind of emotion inside. Hermione squeezed Fred’s hand, letting him know that she would follow up. Letting Fred’s hand go, she reached for George’s hand instead and led him to the kitchen, announcing that she and George would start breakfast while Fred entertained their visitors.

“What’s up then, Georgie?” she asked when they reached the kitchen. She closed the door and flicked her wand to start the water boiling for tea.

“I’m OK, love,” he said, jumping up to sit on the worksurface beside where she was collecting mugs. His long legs dangled down and he swung them a little. “Just didn’t sleep much. And then seeing the little one and hearing what he called me, it just got to me a bit.”

“Do you mind that he called you that?” Hermione was confused. Fred and George were so laid back and spent so much of their time teasing others that they almost always took things on the chin when it was their turn; it was only fair. But something was clearly bothering him, and she wondered if it was the way in which people sometimes (and often without realising) failed to treat Fred and George as individuals; instead assuming that they were two halves of a pair.

“Gods, no, quite the opposite. D’you know what, love?” George spoke quietly. “There were a few days there after the war when I was terrified that I might become just George, instead of andGeorge. I can’t even begin to tell you how that felt.” Hermione moved in front of him, took his hand and held it tightly as tears filled his eyes. “And things have happened so quickly since; I think I’ve only just started to process some of it.”

Hermione nodded. “I think that’s the way it is for all of us. Fred and I are the same. But go on…” She squeezed his hand, brought it to her mouth to apply a kiss and then let it go, deciding that he might open up more without her eyes on him all the time. She was right; as she continued to buzz about making the tea, George talked.

“When the little one called me NoFred, it just really hit me what a miracle it is that we’re all here to make kids of our own, and it reminded me that there IS a Fred for him to know and for me to not be. Things could have ended so differently … if that fucking wall…” He wiped his eyes, and Hermione passed him a tissue on her way to the fridge. “Thanks, love.” 

George wiped his eyes and then blew his nose with a degree of restraint that surprised Hermione. “Gods, I’m full of tears lately! I cried at your wedding, I cry at every little thing. I’m not sleeping, that’s half the problem.” He leaned in closer. “Unless it’s my hormones; do you think I might be pregnant?”

Hermione reached for her wand, pointing it at his abdomen. “Do you want me to swirl it for you and find out?”

He managed a full smile that time. “Nah, I think we’re good, thanks.”

“I think it’s probably quite normal,” she told him, placing her wand on the worktop and putting her hands on his knees. “It’s been a crazy few weeks since the final battle. Freddie and I both still have nightmares, and I know Harry and Ron are affected by it. Probably others are too, but we don’t all talk about it. It’s great that we’re all moving on with relationships and the shop and living life to the full and stuff, but that’s been so full on that we’ve kind of forgotten that we have a load of stuff to get over. We can’t expect it to all dissolve as if it never happened.”

“I thought I was OK for a while after; I was so relieved that it was all done and that Fred was OK, well and everyone else of course, but it seems to be worse now than just after. Like a delayed reaction.”

Hermione nodded. “Yeah, that’s what we’re finding as well. Ron and Harry too; we talked about it last week. Is there anything we can do to help?”

George lowered his eyes and shook his head.

“What is it, George? I can feel there’s something you want to say. Please tell me… Or I can get Fred if you’d rather tell him?”

George shook his head. “It won’t be any easier telling him, love. I just … I really struggle at night sometimes. If Ange isn’t there; if she’s staying away for work and I’m at hers. I’ve been trying to give you two space by going there more often, and I wanted to help Lauren by giving her my room, but the nightmares are worse when I’m away from Freddie, and if you’ve got the bond closed then sometimes I panic…”

Hermione had abandoned the tea making and took both of George’s hands in her own before moving between his legs to give him a hug. Leaning her face against his tummy, she said, “Georgie, I never meant to push you two apart. You need to come back to the flat more. Starting tonight. It’s your home more than mine. And you should come and get in with us if it’s that bad … I can share Freddie with you. I never meant to take him away.” She pulled back and kissed his tee-shirt clad tummy.

“I know, love; you didn’t.” He stroked her hair. “If it wasn’t for all of Voldemort’s shit, I wouldn’t need him in this way. I thought having our Wednesday dates would be enough. I love them, but it’s in the night that it gets me at the moment.”

“You were alone last night, weren’t you … is that why you didn’t sleep?”

He nodded. “When Ange said she was going early, well I didn’t want say anything because I didn’t want to fuck it up or get in the way of Lauren and Charlie being reunited. I should have gone to stay at Lee’s but he doesn’t know and I feel like such a baby…”

“You’re not a baby, George Weasley. Well…” she smiled at him, “unless we count you being my bond baby!” He tried to smile back. “But it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Promise me you’ll come back and stay more. And that you’ll come and get Fred in the night if you need to?”

He nodded. “I will.”

“For the record, it’s always OK with me if you need to get in with us, as long as you get in his side of the bed, not mine. It’s not that I don’t want to cuddle you,” she looked up at him, “but one human storage heater alongside me is enough; I don’t think I could cope with being a Fred and George toasted sandwich filling!”

He laughed at that. “It’s OK … I don’t think Ange would be happy if I cuddled up to you anyway!”

“Probably not. Does she know, though?” Hermione knew that Angelina would be just as concerned as she was; likely more so.

“Yeah…” he was hesitant. “But I don’t want to worry her. I’m afraid she might want to give up quidditch so she could sleep with me every night, and I don’t want that. So I’ve been coping, but I guess it’s catching up with me…” 

“Is she still away tonight?”

“All weekend.”

“Right then...” George could tell that Hermione was entering what he and Fred used to call ‘prefect mode’ in the days when their hair was long and their worries were few. “When you finish whatever you’re doing today, I want you back here at the flat until Ange is back. I don’t know what Lauren’s doing yet but either way I’ll get Freddie to keep our bed enlarged and you can get in with us – no, don’t argue, we had Elliot last night so it’s hardly a problem. You can have a proper night’s sleep and then a lay-in with your lazy brother. He never gets up til halfway through Sunday, so you can catch up on sleep together. How does that sound?”

George nodded. “That sounds brilliant, love.” He was a bit choked up again, but for different reasons this time. 

“Good. Tell Angie first though, and make sure she’s OK with it. And we won’t turn the bond off any more today either; I’m a bit concerned that all the shut-down time hasn’t helped either.”

George shrugged. She was probably right, but he didn’t want to say it. It was hardly fair that the newly married couple had to limit their intimacy for the sake of the groom’s twin, but then the circumstances of the previous few weeks had been rather difficult.

“Look, I really do need to get on with breakfast, but why don’t you pop into our room for a nap now? You’ll need a silencing charm though, with all this lot here. I’ll save some sausages and bacon for when you wake up.”

George gave Hermione a smile. “Thanks. I might just do that.”

“Good. Do you want to take anything with you?”

“No, I’m OK, love. Just my coffee.” He jumped down off the worksurface and engulfed Hermione in a hug. “Thank you. I can’t tell you what this means.”

Hermione was filled with a feeling of love and gratitude across the twin bond, accompanied by a sense of relief and happiness from her husband in the next room. “Well you don’t really have to, Georgie … I can feel it!”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed. “I still forget!”

Once he had left, Hermione turned to the fridge, sourcing the remainder of what she needed for breakfast. She heard the door open and turned to see Fred heading towards her. He leaned down to give her a kiss. “Hello, lovely. Couldn’t leave you to do all the work … is Georgie OK?”

“I think so. At least he will be,” Hermione pointed Fred towards the stove and he began to cook sausages and bacon while she found a tray and began to gather plates and cutlery for everyone. “He’s not slept and he’s having nightmares. I’ve sent him to get into our bed for a nap.”

Fred looked concerned. “Nightmares?”

Hermione nodded. “I don’t know if Ange knows how bad it is. I think it’s mostly about you and that bloody wall. And we’ve tuned him out quite a bit; I hadn’t thought about how that might affect him. So I’ve told him he should sleep in with us tonight … hopefully being close to you will help him sleep properly.”

Fred hung his head. “I should have paid more attention. Got all caught up with my sexy new wife and then Charlie’s romance…”

Hermione walked up behind him. She put her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek into his back. “It’s not your fault, Fred. I think it’s been a delayed reaction for quite a few of us. Ginny and Harry were fine at first but aren’t sleeping so well now. Ron too.”

“Buggers up our night together though.”

“Oh, Gods.” Hermione had forgotten about that. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Fred shrugged, but Hermione felt his churning emotions. He was distressed for his twin, torn between his love for Hermione and his family, sad that she had put George’s needs first, even though he loved George more than his own life.

“What should I do, Fred? I’ve cocked up,” she said. “I just wanted to be nice…”

“That’s the trouble, ‘Mione,” he said. “You always want to be nice. To everyone. Sometimes I wonder if there’s enough room for me…”

She felt his sadness through the bond but it was hard not to react. “What would you have had me do instead, Fred?” She was aware that her words were almost a hiss, in her care to not have everyone else hear. But Fred was not being reasonable; she really hadn’t felt that she had a choice. She was making so much effort to help his family – their family – and she felt that Fred could be a bit more understanding. Then she had a thought. “Can George sense this?” 

Fred took a few deep breaths. “I closed him off just then, but I’ll not torture him. Which is why I’m going to calm down and attempt to be mature. I’m sorry, Hermione. I know you’re trying to do the right thing. I can’t promise to keep being OK with it if we don’t start making some time for us, though. I just love you so much and the bond pulls me to you all the time. I want to spend time with you.”

Hermione nodded. “Me too. Let him back in while I kiss you. He’ll think that’s what we were up to all along…”

Fred chuckled and then did as she asked. When he pulled away, he took hold of the hand that she had wrapped around him and squeezed her fingers gently. “How about we both think about having our own date night, and we’ll negotiate it with George?”

“That sounds like a good plan. Best talk to Angelina and find out when works for her.”

Fred nodded. Row averted, this time, but he had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time that they would have this kind of conversation, especially with everything that was happening. He decided that a change of subject might be in order. “Our newest family members seem to be fitting in well.”

“Do you think they’re OK?” Hermione asked him. 

“I think so. I just hope they tell Mum and Dad soon. Like today… I don’t like keeping this secret.”

Hermione nodded. “I know what you mean. We’ll bring it up again after breakfast.” She let go of Fred and lifted her wand in search of some kind of bread. Ten minutes later, Fred carried a platter of sausages, bacon, fried eggs and buttered crumpets into the living room.

“Breakfast!” he announced.

“Fred!” Elliot was as pleased as ever to see his uncle, then looked around. “Where’s NoFred?”

“He’s just having a nap, sweetheart,” said Hermione, who had followed behind with plates and cutlery. “He’s a bit tired, so he’s in our bed. You can see him again later.”

Elliot’s eyes widened and his eyes danced with happiness. “He sleeps in your bed too?”

Fred’s mouth pulled into a couple of different shapes while he caught Charlie’s eye and decided how to best answer that question. Charlie’s eyebrows danced in reply. Hermione's eyes briefly met with Lauren’s and the two shared a look of amusement. “He does when he’s tired and your mummy’s borrowing his room,” she told the little boy.

“Cool!” Lauren’s eyes rolled skyward, and Hermione laughed. It had taken Elliot less than a day to adopt his father’s favourite word. He turned to Lauren. “So tonight, mummy, can I sleep with Fred AND NoFred?”

Fred laughed, loudly enough that Hermione was glad she had told George to put up a silencing charm. Lauren was a bit lost for words. Hermione beamed at him and said, “Well why don’t we see how the day goes. I’m not sure what we’re doing yet. On which note…” she tailed off into silence and left that thought hanging.

“I know...” It was Charlie who picked up the thread and Hermione was happy that he was taking responsibility. “I need to talk to Mum and Dad today, I think. With or without Lauren, depending on how you feel, love?”

Lauren chewed and then swallowed her food. “I feel fine either way. But something you said last night made me think your mum might not react well, and I don’t want Elliot there if there’s any chance of it not going well.”

“I don’t think she would react badly…” Fred frowned. “Do you?” He looked at Hermione.

“She’s a lovely, caring woman who dotes on her children and will the best grandmother you can imagine.” Hermione loved Molly and didn’t want to paint her in a bad light for Lauren, but she had been on the receiving end of Molly’s relational misunderstandings some years ago, and she didn’t want Lauren to be unprepared for that possibility. “And she’s a bit excitable and therefore not always predictable in emotional situations … especially if she thinks anyone is not doing right by any of her children.”

“Like getting pregnant by them and not telling them for two years?”

“Gods, no,” Charlie said. “And I’ll be very clear that none of it is your fault. But Hermione’s right, so I should go by myself first…” 

“Will you go today? And should we stay here then?” Lauren asked. “Because Elliot is going to want to go out and run around at some point; I can’t keep him cooped up all day. He’s already getting a bit antsy…”

“Oh, I know a few people like that!” Hermione laughed, nodding towards Fred and Charlie.

A few minutes later, they had a plan. Charlie would go to The Burrow mid-morning to talk to Molly and Arthur, leaving Lauren and Elliot at the flat. Fred – and George, when he woke – would be in charge of some boisterous games to help keep Elliot busy until Charlie returned, and then they would find out how it went and decide what to do next. Hermione was about to remind Charlie that he would need to apparate back into Diagon Alley, because the flat’s wards were still up to prevent unexpected visitors when her words were interrupted by a happy shout from Elliot which sent all of their planning into disarray.

“Horse!”

Elliot stood up on the sofa, pointing to the kitchen door, through which an elegant silvery horse was slowly galloping. Lauren looked as terrified as Elliot was excited. Charlie immediately took her hand. “It’s OK,” he whispered. “Nothing dangerous.”

“Hermione Jean!” the horse spoke, further delighting Elliot, who looked at his father and clapped his hands together in joy before turning back to watch Ginny Weasley’s patronus deliver the rest of its message. “I don’t know WHAT you’re doing with my brother to need the floo closed and the wards down for this long – and yuk, by the way – but we really need to discuss Kingsley’s plan and our outfits. So if the floo isn’t open in fifteen minutes then I’m bribing the-boy-who-lived-to-learn-how-to-break-through-wards-last-week-in-auror-training to bring me through. See you in a bit!”


	26. A crazy Weasley Saturday (part 1)

“So that’s our sister Ginny,” said Fred, as the horse faded. “She’s very bossy, as you can see.”

“Frankly,” Lauren replied, “I can see why she’d need to be with you lot around.”

Fred grinned. He was trying to decide how to respond to that when Elliot addressed Charlie.

“Your sister’s a horse?” Elliot’s eyes were wider than ever, clearly over the moon at the prospect of a talking equine auntie and Charlie felt sad to have to disappoint him. 

“No, Elliot. She’s a girl, but she sends a horse with messages. Umm..” He stopped, unsure of how to explain this. He didn’t have enough knowledge of the muggle world to draw effective comparisons and wished that he had paid more attention in muggle studies at Hogwarts rather than using it as an opportunity to attend to whichever creature he was carrying around in his robes that day.

“Was that Gin?” George strode out of the bedroom, still fully dressed, and headed straight for the remainder of the breakfast food. “I know,” he said to Hermione before she could ask him why he wasn’t sleeping. “Because silencing spells don’t stop the smell of bacon and it made me realise I needed bacon even more than I needed sleep. He squeezed himself into the armchair next to Fred, who shifted to make room, knowing that George needed the comfort of proximity.

“Yes,” Hermione said. “Which means we might need to speed things up a bit. She will do what she says, so unless you want to meet her and Harry while Charlie’s at The Burrow…”

“And risk an international incident,” Fred added, and George laughed before chiming in.

“Yeah, when mum finds out that Gin and the Boy Wonder met you and Elliot before her as well…”

Lauren was looking slightly overwhelmed again, though Elliot seemed to be bouncing more and more with each new level of complication. 

“I wonder if it would be better if Elliot and I just went home for a bit?” she said. “The root of the problem is that we’re here. And we could go home, go to the park and then one or more of you could come and get us later to meet the parents. Or I could drive there. I’d like to drive. It’d be nice to do something normal again. Normal for me, I mean. No offence…” she added. Charlie patted her arm to let her know that they understood.

Hermione was about to protest when Fred put his hand on her arm. “Lauren, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, but it sounds like you might like a couple of hours to yourself anyway?”

“I think so,” Lauren replied. “I’d quite like to do some laundry and take Elliot out. Everyday things for us.” She turned to Charlie. “I’m happy to meet more of your family later, but I think it would be good if I had some time with Elliot too. I want to make sure he’s dealing with it…”

“I get it,” Charlie nodded. “So we need to work out how to get you home in the next fifteen minutes. Ideally with me coming to see where you live, if that’s OK, so I can apparate back and forth to you directly?”

“Of course, Charlie. Hermione come and goes in the garden … can you show him?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, absolutely. We just need to work out the logistics.”

“What do you mean?” Lauren asked.

“Well I’m the only person who knows where you live, but I can’t apparate you and Elliot and Charlie all in one go. Maybe if I take Fred so he can see where you live and then we both come back. Or no, we’d still have to have three people. Could I apparate two of you and have enough energy to come back and then go to Lauren’s again within a few minutes? Or should we floo? Is the café in Bristol open on a Saturday morning?” 

Hermione was reminded of the dream dilemma that she had experienced when she had the nightmare about Umbridge invading her wedding, when she had wondered how many people she could safely apparate, and it annoyed her that she hadn’t had time to research the answer since then. Hermione Granger-Weasley didn’t like not knowing things. Which made the smug look on her husband’s face even more annoying, because it was clear that he had an answer that she couldn’t see.

“Are you not forgetting something?” Fred held up his left hand and showed her his wedding ring. George’s head then appeared beside Fred’s with an equally smug grin on his face. 

“Ohhhhh.” Realisation dawned on Hermione. “Of course. Will it work?”

“Yeah, totally.” George nodded. “I’ll get my shoes.” He pointed his wand towards the back door.

“What am I missing?” Lauren asked, frowning.

“The bond that the three of us share,” Hermione explained, summoning her own and Fred’s shoes as well. “If I lead and we all focus, Fred and George can use our bond connection to apparate to the same place as me, even though they haven’t been there before. It’s completely safe, don’t worry. But it’s probably the only way we can do this and not have the whole family descending on us before Mum and Dad find out. And once we’ve all done this once, any one of you can come and go on our own, or with you and Elliot together. It’s just better that you have the full attention of one person the first time you experience it.”

“Right. I’ll get my stuff.” Lauren had been fearing apparition ever since she had heard about it and was secretly quite glad that her first time would be happening without her being able to think too much about it. She passed Elliot to Charlie, who was scrambling his own things together from the floor around the sofa, and went into George’s room to get her rucksack. “Please make sure you’ve got Mr Rabbit,” she pleaded. “He’s essential to Elliot’s wellbeing!” 

Charlie nodded, securing the soft bunny into the strap on the front of his bag so that Mr Rabbit could see where he was going. Elliot was happy with this arrangement and asked if Graham could come too.

“Graham needs to stay here, lovely,” Hermione told him. “But you can visit him again soon. The other bunnies will keep him company while you’re gone.”

Fred raised his wand, ready to open the floo and take down the anti-apparition wards just before they left so they would be able to get out and Ginny could get in. He then stood whispering and giggling with George. Hermione was happy to see them playing together, but curious as to what they were plotting. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Well we had a request,” Fred said.

“Yeah, when it’s time to tell Bill…”

“We were wondering if we could borrow Elliot…”

“And go to Shell Cottage…”

“Because seeing as Elliot looks so much like Charlie…”

“We thought we could tell him we had had an accident in the shop…”

“And ask if he knows any way of making Charlie a grown-up again!”

“This is,” Hermione told them, half cross and half laughing, “exactly why Lauren is right to be a bit worried about our world!”

They found it hard to contain their laughter, but had managed to compose themselves by the time Lauren returned with her bag. Fred had sorted Elliot out and was wearing him in his carrier, and Hermione indicated for George to side-along apparate Charlie while she shouldered Lauren’s rucksack and offered Lauren her arm. 

“Wards and floo?” she said to Fred.

“On it.” Fred waved his wand. He hadn’t wanted to do it too soon and have Ginny arrive before they left.

“OK, on the count of three, and we’re landing in Lauren’s back garden which is in a village, so don’t make too much noise and make the neighbours wonder what’s going on. One, two, three…” 

Just as she had feared, when Lauren apparated into her own back garden for the first time, her first response was to vomit. She had three whole seconds warning after landing, and she managed to turn away from Hermione and aim towards the rosemary bush, but it still wasn’t dignified. She felt slightly better when Hermione immediately aimed her wand and made the sick disappear into thin air, but Lauren retched twice more and rid herself of her entire breakfast before dropping to her knees on the grass. Taking deep breaths, she assumed that the hand on her back was still Hermione’s until she heard Charlie’s voice speaking quietly to her.

“You’re OK, love. Take a minute before you get up. You do get used to it in the end. Can I make your mouth taste better? It won’t hurt.” Lauren nodded and Charlie cast a gentle breath-freshening charm on her before transfiguring a pebble into a cup and casting an aguamenti spell to pour some water into it for her to sip. He continued speaking in that quiet, calming voice that he used when people or animals were distressed. “I’ve sent the others away; Elliot’s showing them his sandpit, so no-one’s paying attention to us.”

“Is he OK?”

“He’s surprisingly fine, love. George and I were ready in case Fred needed help with him, but he shouted ‘whooosh’ and asked if we could do it again!”

Lauren managed a smile. “He shouts whoosh every time Hermione does that, and I think he might even do it before she lands – if land is the right word? I keep meaning to ask about that. Is it possible that he can sense magic?”

Charlie sat down on the grass beside her, thinking. “I don’t know. It’s not something I have a lot of experience with. You’d think I would know, with so many younger siblings, but it was all so normal for me that I never really thought about it.”

Lauren touched Charlie’s arm, wanting to ensure she had his full attention. “Charlie, is Elliot definitely a wizard?”

Charlie pulled an uncertain face. “From what you said about the funny happenings, accidental magic would be the obvious answer. But none of us have seen him do anything yet, have we? Have ‘Mione or Fred seen him produce magic?”

Lauren shook her head. “Not that I know of. Hermione said it doesn’t happen much. They both think that your mum would be a good person for me to talk to.”

“She would.” Charlie scooped her into a tighter hug and cradled her head against his chest. “Godric, this whole thing must be ridiculous for you.”

“Some of it was a relief, though. I thought the house was haunted; was thinking we’d need to move out. It seemed crazy and I don’t even believe in that kind of thing, so in a weird way it was a relief when Hermione explained it might be Elliot’s magic.” Lauren paused for a moment, looking at her house. Charlie squeezed her again and she looked up as Hermione approached.

“Are you OK now?”

“Yeah … sorry!” Lauren smiled.

“You really don’t need to apologise. If you’re OK though, we should go. Ginny will probably have arrived and be searching for clues as to where we are. I’ve just remembered that we left rabbits in the bedroom…”

Lauren laughed, and then looked at Charlie. “I think we should let Hermione tell Ginny and her boyfriend. Otherwise it’s going to affect their friendship, and we can’t have that.”

Hermione nodded. “I’ll tell her before she leaves ours, but I’ll make her swear not to interfere with Charlie telling Mum and Dad. To be honest, if she’s got a bee in her bonnet about Kingsley’s plan, she’ll talk non-stop about that for an hour and I’ll be hard pushed to get a word in anyway…”

“Oh you know her well!” Charlie grinned. Lauren shifted position, a bit uncomfortable now. “Allow me,” he said, jumping onto the balls of his feet and offering Lauren a hand up. 

“OK,” said Hermione, as Fred and George wandered towards them with Elliot swinging between their hands. “We’ll go, and leave you to it. Please let us know how it goes, and what your plan is for having everyone meet.”

“We will, my lady,” Charlie bowed to Hermione. “And thank you again … for helping me find my little family here. I just can’t even imagine…” His voice broke as he considered how, without Hermione’s help, he might never even have known that he had a son. 

Hermione took his hand. “It’s OK, Charlie. That’s what sisters-in-law are for. And don’t imagine the ‘what ifs’; it won’t do you any good. You’re here now. Take care; we’ll see you soon.” She kissed his cheek, and then Lauren’s, as the older woman murmured her own thank you before picking Elliot up in her arms and encouraging him to wave at his auntie and uncles as they apparated back home. Just before they twisted out of sight, Hermione called to Lauren, “email if you need me.”

Charlie turned to Lauren with a grin. “Can muggles send emus? Well that’s not so different from owls after all!”

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

“Well,” said Ginny Weasley, as Hermione, Fred and George landed in their living room. “All I can say is that it’s a good job you left me warm sausages! Where have you been?”

Years of pranks and trickery had rendered George and Fred Weasley more than capable of directing someone’s attention elsewhere. “Gin!” they shouted in unison, launching themselves onto the sofa where their little sister had parked herself while finishing up their breakfast. 

“How’s Harry?” asked Fred.

“Would you like to be a tester for a new glitterbubble product?” George added from her other side. “I think you’ll love it…”

“Lovely top, by the way.” Fred touched the fabric. “Is it new?” 

Ginny narrowed her eyes. Years of living with George and Fred Weasley had made Ginny wise to their attempts to divert her attention. “I’m not stupid, you know!”

“Of course they know,” said Hermione reassuringly. “They’re trying to distract you from a surprise which we will tell you about in a bit, but let’s talk about Kingsley’s letter first.”

“Oh is this your pizza night?” Ginny asked, her eyes lighting up. “You said it would be in a couple of weeks, and that’s nearly up. Harry mentioned that this morning … he’s so good at remembering dates. I’d forget my birthday if I didn’t have mum to remind me…”

Fred’s eyes lit up. “Yes, that’s it. But we’re not sure how it will fit in with the Ministry stuff now, so that’s why we need to start there.” He pointed her attention back to the wad of paper in her hands.

Hermione suppressed a smile; he was really smooth at this. Sending George to make some tea – for he was the least affected by Kingsley’s plan, at least in its early stages – she settled into an armchair and let Ginny talk.

Kingsley’s letter was detailed, but the overall plan was simple. He had, as they had previously discussed and agreed, made a plan with the Wizengamot to spin the story of Hermione and Fred’s romance into the first part of an appeal to the wizarding world to voluntarily marry and seed a decade-long baby boom before the falling population situation became so drastic that they needed to pass a marriage law. 

It had felt, at least to Hermione and Fred, that a long time had passed since Kingsley had initially paused the impending law and proposed an alternative solution to the wizard elders. But when they had read his letter in bed the previous evening, they had understood why it had taken time for him to move further with his plan. Not only had he organised a major event and secured funding for incentives but, not trusting the journalists to do it sensitively enough, Kingsley had personally drafted and sent them a series of five articles that would be published in The Daily Prophet. His strategic planning impressed both Fred and George, for he had planned to release details of his plan over the next couple of weeks to culminate in a ball which would be hosted and funded by the Ministry of Magic and held at Hogwarts on Harry’s birthday, July 31st. 

“That’s just under three weeks away!” Ginny warned, and Hermione laughed. Given the speed of the happenings in her life over the past three weeks, that much lead-in time felt positively relaxing.

The first article detailed the romantic story of the war heroine and the resistance fighter and Kingsley’s margin notes explained that this would be front page news. He has asked to use a couple of their wedding photos and Fred and Hermione had already agreed that they’d be happy with that. That first story would end with the announcement that there was a need to create more families and make magical babies and explained that a special series of articles and events would explain this further over the course of the couple of weeks. He had all sorts planned, including a piece on how he was planning ahead to ensure that Hogwarts would be ready to take a bumper crop of students in eleven or twelve years’ time.

The articles that he sent included the announcement of the ball. Kingsley had added another margin note to explain that, as Hermione and Fred would be asked to pose for the press along with Harry and Ron and, if they chose, their ball dates, the Ministry would pay for all their outfits. Those photos would then, Kingsley had explained, give the press material for the weekend editions in which he had taken out full-page advertisements to ensure that the full details of his plan were published in one place. He hoped that August would see a flurry of weddings as a result and he had set up a special department in the Ministry to make this as smooth as possible for all concerned.

“So obviously I’m up for being the belle of Harry’s ball,” Ginny grinned. “Especially as you and I get to play dress-up at Madame Malkin’s on the Ministry’s tab … shall we go and see her soon?”

Hermione nodded. “That’s fine, Gin. I need to talk to her about some work outfits as well.” She really needed to get a quill and write some of this down. “I’m starting at the shop on Monday,” she cut her eyes to Fred, thinking about Lauren and wondering whether that would still be possible, “well, as long as nothing else major happens.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ginny.

“Oh,” Hermione tried to sound nonchalant. “Well, you know, just it’s been so busy and I’ve not really had time to think. Go on…”

“OK,” Ginny spoke slowly. She knew something was afoot but she couldn’t quite work it out. She would just have to trust that they would get to it soon. “What I don’t know yet,” she continued, “is whether Ron’s going to grow a pair and ask Luna or whether he’ll be a billy-no-mates and come alone.” She rolled her eyes.

George looked at Fred. “I guess we could help there,” he shrugged. 

“Maybe…” Fred was always a little less inclined to compassion than George where Ron was concerned. But he then had a thought. “Oh … we could test that new confidence boosting potion you’ve got on the go.”

George grinned widely. “Now you’re talking.”

Their gaze returned to Ginny as she continued chatting about the plan and reading aloud her favourite bits of Kingsley’s writing. His other articles were equally juicy and compelling; there were fascinating details of how Fred, George and Lee had created Potterwatch and of some of Hermione, Harry and Ron’s achievements. Kingsley was clearly very good at using words to engender a sense of community and a desire to help. Even on her first reading of the articles Hermione felt sure that many readers would want to help even without the incentives (to be revealed on Thursday week) or the apologetic but still present threat of a potential marriage law if it was needed.

“So the bit that you might not know because Kings doesn’t even want to tell the Wizengamot in case of a leak, is that Harry is going to propose to me again, very publicly, at the ball itself. And then make a rousing speech in support of the law.”

“Wow,” said Fred. “No wonder it took Kings a few weeks to put it all together.”

“Do you think it will work?” Hermione asked.

“Don’t see why not,” George replied. “He’s explaining the need, offering an incentive and being clear that if we don’t all get on with it then he’ll have no choice but to pass the threatened law. We all have to make a decision: make our own commitment or risk having the Ministry make one for us.”

Hermione’s stomach dropped upon hearing his words. Too late, she recalled that George had his own marriage dilemma. Not about whether or not he wanted to marry Angie, for she was confident that he probably did, but about what sort of marriage they would have and when they would tie the knot. She knew he would dearly love to be bonded with Angelina in the way that she and Fred were, especially now he saw how much the bond helped their relationship. As he knew from his lifetime twin bond with his brother, it was much harder to fall out with someone when you had intimate access to their feelings. Less chance of misunderstandings, for a start. But Angelina wasn’t keen on an old-fashioned full bonding because it would mean the end of her professional quidditch career.

“Stop worrying about me, love,” George touched Hermione’s shoulder. “I’ll figure it out.”

Hermione nodded, but when she got up to get a quill to start making a list, she didn’t stop at ‘dress shop with Gin’, ‘talk to F&G re start in shop’, ‘date for pizza night’ or even ‘ball Friday 31st’. She carefully added ‘ask Minerva re using library to research bond control’. She didn’t want to forget that, even if the craziness of her life meant it wasn’t her top priority.

“So,” said Ginny. “If we’re all OK with everything in Kingsley’s plan and you’re OK to make some time for me next week, ‘Mione?” Hermione nodded, and Ginny continued. “Then I propose you tell me what it is that has you all so on edge and with your wards and floo down for bloody hours…”

“Well,” said Hermione. “About three years ago, Charlie met a muggle women called Lauren, when she was on holiday at a spa near his reserve.”

Fred looked at George. “I feel like we’ve heard this bedtime story before!”

“Yeah,” George crossed his eyes. “Wonder how many times we’re going to hear it this weekend?”

“And,” Hermione continued, raising her voice to drown them out, “they spent the summer together in a sort of no-strings but very friendly affair that I don’t really know what to call.”

She continued telling Charlie and Lauren’s story, making sure that Ginny had the progression and enough detail of how Charlie had felt to make sense of why Hermione had made it her mission to find Lauren when she returned from her honeymoon. “So I went over to Bristol to meet her, and we had a lovely chat and, well, it turns out that she doesn’t live alone. She had left Romania pregnant with Charlie’s baby, but she had no way of contacting him to tell him. And so … you have a nephew called Elliot, who’s two and a bit and is just adorable and the brightest little thing you’ve ever met…”

“Fuck!” exclaimed Ginny.

“Indeed,” said George and Fred, in unison. 

“Here,” Hermione leaned over towards the bookshelf and picked up a copy of the photo that Lauren had given her. “Lauren let us make a few copies of this. You can take it, if you like, to show Harry. And Ron, I guess, if you see him first.”

Ginny looked up from the photo with a smile. “He’s gorgeous. So like Charlie. I can’t wait to meet him. And take the mick out of Charlie, obviously. They’re all back together again?”

“Mmmmm, depends how you define that,” said Hermione, wrinkling her nose. “Lauren wanted to meet Charlie here so she came over last night. With Elliot, but Freddie watched him so she could talk to Charlie alone first. He portkeyed in and they met on the roof and then he met Elliot too and they all stayed over. In different rooms,” she added, keen to nip any speculation in the bud and wanting to get the facts out before Ginny and Molly got together to dissect the situation later. The new family had enough to contend with. “They’re not together together, I don’t think, but they’re both committed to figuring it all out. That’s why we had all the wards and the floo closed, sorry Gin. They needed to meet up and have a bit of time together before everyone else got involved. We were more worried that your mum might drop in with food or something.”

“Gods, yes,” said Ginny. “Can you imagine? Sunday dinner tomorrow is going to be brilliant! So I can tell Harry? And Ron, if he’s around?”

Hermione nodded. “Sure. Charlie was headed over there when we left, so mum and dad should know by now…”

At that, the floo roared into life and Fleur Weasley stepped out, as full of grace as ever. “Oh, I am so glad you’re both here,” she said to Hermione and Ginny. “We have a bit of a problem…”


	27. A crazy Weasley Saturday (part 2)

Molly Weasley had woken at four in the morning – again, she sighed in realisation – feeling as if she had fallen asleep on a beach in a fur coat in forty degree sun. Her heart was pounding and, with a sinking feeling, she knew that the glass of red wine that she had sipped in the garden while chatting with her husband the previous evening was the cause. Which was a bugger, because it seemed that the very things that had kept her sane through the birthing, feeding and raising of seven children – wine, chocolate and Arthur’s beef curry; the recipe for which was the best bit of marriage wisdom that his own father had given him – were now conspiring against her. 

This was the third time that such a thing had happened in recent weeks. The first was the morning after Fred and Hermione’s wedding. Molly had woken at three a.m. that day, regretting every sip of champagne that had passed her lips. She had crept to the twins’ old bedroom, confident – and correctly so, as it turned out – that she would find a hangover potion in one of their bedside tables, and she had downed it with a large glass of water conjured from her wand.

It made little difference. She still felt hotter than the sun and she went downstairs, where the only relief she found was from laying down on the cellar flagstones. Arthur had quite a turn when he found her there later, so she scolded him for being silly.

It wasn’t the alcohol per se, but it clearly played a part. She had been fine after the firewhisky that she had shared with Hermione when she came to collect her things, but she had been up again after she shared a bottle of wine with Arthur a week or so later.

And now this was the third time. Not wanting to wake Arthur, but knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep any more and would only wind herself up if she continued to lay there, Molly quietly rose and went downstairs. She raised her wand towards the kettle, having read somewhere that tea could actually help cool one down, and stared out of the window, thankful that at least the dawn was nearing. 

As she sat and sipped, she wondered how she and Arthur would fill their normal Saturday morning. Their weekends were a different kind of normal these days, as their family were so spread out. Bill and Fleur were married and living in Shell Cottage, Charlie was in Romania and Percy had a flat near the Ministry of Magic. Ron lived with Harry, in Grimmauld Place, and Fred and George shared the flat over the shop with Hermione. Ahhh, Fred and Hermione; now there was a patronus-worthy thought to calm her frayed nerves.

George, well he was another matter. Molly was a bit worried about her younger twin, sensing that he still hadn’t got over the near-loss of Fred. Partly because of this, she deliberately chose not to think about whether Angelina sometimes stayed over at the flat as well, but that was less challenging that the fact that her own daughter Ginny, who still technically lived at The Burrow, seemed to sleep elsewhere most nights. Molly knew that she was also at Grimmauld Place. And not, as she had told Molly, in the room of her own that Harry and Ron had decorated for her, but in Harry’s bed. 

On a theoretical level, Molly knew that she needed to give everyone a break while they recovered from the war, and she also understood that times had changed, but it was hard to completely abandon the values that had been drummed into her as a child. Especially as the child of a proud pureblood wizarding family. And she felt every emotion more strongly than ever these days. 

She sighed, deciding to move herself into the living room and make a plan for this year’s Christmas sweaters. With their growing family, it wouldn’t hurt to get a head start, and she could take herself out to buy wool later, assuming her body would ever cool down and behave for long enough to allow her to feel that she could go out in public again. She cast a cooling charm over herself and took herself and her tea to the living room.

“Knut for your thoughts, Mollywobbles,” Arthur smiled when he came downstairs a few hours later.

“They’re not worth it, love,” she told him. “I’m hot and jittery again and I don’t know what to do with myself today.”

“Trouble sleeping again?”

She nodded her head.

Arthur tried again. “What about seeing if Hermione would like to come over today? Won’t Fred be in the shop, as it’s a Saturday? She might like to bring her sewing and keep you company.”

“I already tried sending a note, to ask if she’d like a home-baked pie for dinner. But they’ve got the floo closed and the wards up.”

Arthur frowned slightly. That wasn’t like the twins. But perhaps they wanted a lie-in, or they were still affected by the bond. It also crossed his mind to wonder whether Molly, in her need to be needed, had been bothering them too much of late. 

“Well shall I make you some breakfast, Molly?”

“What, and make me completely redundant? Don’t you think enough people can manage without me already, without you suddenly deciding to become a house elf and take over the running of my kitchen, Arthur?”

Oops. Arthur made a mental note to try and remember that for next time. It was hard to know how to please Molly these days, but after this many years of commitment and everything they had shared together, he wasn’t going to give up trying. He loved this fierce, loving witch with all of his heart and he wasn’t going to let them grow apart just as they had reached the stage of life where they could relax a bit more and hopefully one day soon begin to enjoy some grandchildren.

Molly huffed and turned towards the kitchen as a brown owl tapped on the window with The Daily Prophet in its beak. Glad of the distraction, Arthur went to thank and pay the bird while Molly continued to bustle around the kitchen. He decided that today might be a good day to tidy his shed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

A short time later and about fifty miles northeast of The Burrow, while his little son dug a hole with a green wooden spade, Charlie was running his fingers through the sand at the edge of the sandpit. “I should just go and do it, love, shouldn’t I? If I don’t make a move then I’ll just end up sitting here all day and they’ll find out from Ginny…”

Lauren nodded. “Probably best. Will you come back here afterwards? I can give you the grand tour of the cottage then, if you like?”

“Can I show my bedroom?” Elliot looked up.

“Of course, lovely,” Lauren smiled. “And maybe the park as well.”

“Cool!” There was Charlie’s favourite word again. Elliot turned back to his digging. 

Charlie watched his son fondly. “I don’t know how else I can contact you so yes, I guess I’ll just pop back over later today. I don’t know when, though. Is that OK?”

“Of course,” Lauren smiled. “We like visitors. Very much. Especially when they’re you. And we don’t have any plans beyond a walk to the park, so if we’re not here when you get back, just wait and we won’t be long. Or walk up the road for three minutes that way,” she pointed to her left, “and you’ll find us. It’s not far.”

Charlie took Lauren’s chin in his hand. “We’ll find a way to communicate directly, love. I’ll have to ask Hermione to help. I just haven’t got my head around all the things we need to work out yet.”

“I know, Charlie, it’s OK,” Lauren reassured him. “Go and tell your folks about your son. Here, take these…” she reached into her pocket and handed him a few small squares of shiny paper. “Hermione made me some copies with her wand, so you can leave one of these with them if they’d like it?” 

Charlie leaned forward, kissed her on the cheek and then scooped Elliot into his muscled arms from behind, lifting the little boy off the surface of the sand to hug him. “I’m off, bud. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, daddy.” Elliot leaned his head into Charlie’s chest and Charlie’s heart melted a little bit more. He administered a kiss to Elliot’s head and then put the little boy down again before walking backwards towards the apparition point that they had designated next to Lauren’s garden shed.

Charlie smiled as he raised his wand slightly and apparated just outside The Burrow’s wards. As he walked through the garden, he could see his father reading the paper at the table and his mother bustling about the kitchen. This looked like a normal Weasley Saturday morning, even if the table was a bit less full of people that usual. Smiling, he opened the kitchen door and greeted his parents.

“Hello, good morning!”

Molly dropped the pan that she was holding and it bounced on the worksurface before crashing to the floor.

“Charlie Weasley!” she shouted. “What are you doing here, and why did you need to scare me like that?” Her hand was over her heart, trying to calm her palpitations.

Arthur looked up from behind the paper, trying to catch his son’s eye and warn him that his mum wasn’t feeling well. But Charlie wasn’t looking in the right direction.

“I didn’t mean to scare you mum, sorry. I thought you might like that I had come to visit.”

“No warning? Don’t they have owls in Romania anymore? Have they all flown away? Or died from heart attacks when you burst in on them without calling first? I could have been anywhere.” Molly spoke sharply as a result of the adrenalin that had begun to course around her body again at the unexpected sight of Charlie, who she thought was in Romania. What she really meant was that she would have loved to have known ahead of time that her beloved second eldest son was headed over for a visit. It would have given her something to look forward to and she would have thoroughly enjoyed making all his favourite foods in preparation for his arrival. It just didn’t come out that way.

“I didn’t know myself, Mum.” He moved towards her and tried to give her a hug. She accepted a kiss on the cheek, more preoccupied with trying to calm her racing heart.

“Dad,” he nodded to Arthur as he went to sit at the kitchen table.

“Good morning Charlie,” his father said. “It’s nice to see you. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Well,” Charlie began, not at all sure that he wanted to continue now. But he couldn’t stall; Hermione would be telling Ginny by now, and he didn’t have time to play with. “I have some news.”

“Do you want some breakfast?” Molly had taken a few deep breaths to calm herself.

“That would be lovely, Mum, if there’s enough. Thanks” Even if he had eaten three breakfasts at Hermione and the twins’ place, he would still have stuffed another one in for his mother. There was no surer way to warm her heart than to enjoy her food, and no surer way to incur her wrath than to decline it. 

Molly huffed. “Has there ever not been enough?”

“No Mum.” Shit, he thought, as his mother put a full plate of breakfast in front of him. He couldn’t say right for wrong this morning. Charlie groaned inwardly. For reasons that he couldn’t understand, he truly couldn’t have picked a worse day for this. He began to fork the food into his mouth, but he wasn’t tasting any of it.

“Alright then,” Molly sat down heavily in her usual chair. “Let’s have your news…”

Charlie took a deep breath. He couldn't see any option but to go ahead.

“OK, so about three years ago, I was in the mountains for work and I met a woman who was staying near the reserve.”

Molly and Arthur simply returned his gaze. So far, so good. They had been hoping that he would one day turn up with a girlfriend in tow. Maybe that would be the precursor to him returning home to settle down.

“She’s a muggle. Her name is Lauren. She’s about a year older than me. She works in Bristol, actually, for a University. She’s like a professor, but she teaches adults. Adult muggles.”

Molly’s eyes lit up. “Are you coming home to teach dragon studies to muggles?”

“No Mum. Muggles don’t know about dragons.” He drank some tea to give himself a moment to think before he tried again. “Well, you see, we liked each other and we had a bit of an affair, I suppose, for a summer ... before the war, this is ... and the thing is … well … I – I got her pregnant.” He swallowed. 

Molly’s hands flew to her chest again, and she cried out in dismay.

“Charlie Weasley! You didn’t?” That was Arthur, also looking shocked. He’d had one hell of a morning, and this was just going to cap it all off.

Charlie nodded. “I did Dad, I’m sorry. I know what you think about that kind of thing. But the thing is –”

“How could you, Charlie? A bit of an affair? What does that mean? I don’t suppose it means any kind of commitment, hmmmm?” Molly’s voice was sharper than she meant it to be, and Charlie winced.

“After everything I taught you boys?” His father’s eyes were wide and sad, and Charlie felt like he had been kicked in the stomach.

“It wasn’t like that, Dad. There’s more I need to tell you. It’s not coming out right.”

“Just what is the right way for it to come out?” Molly asked, but Charlie didn’t get a chance to answer before Arthur jumped back in. Oh gods, they were tag teaming, and he hadn’t yet managed to tell them the important bits. 

“I can’t believe this!” Arthur said to his son. “I’m not stupid; I know Fred and George twisted my words to make themselves believe they could be freer with non-magical women, but you as well? You must all think I’m a stupid old fool.”

“Dad, none of us think that, and I don’t know what you mean about Fred and George…”

“It was a turn of phrase,” Arthur continued. “I wasn’t giving you all permission to impregnate random muggles!”

Molly looked at Arthur. “Fred and George went with muggles?” She hadn’t known about that bit. Arthur cringed. He only knew because Cedric had been so close to Amos and, after his death, Amos had spent several evenings getting drunk at the local pub and retelling every conversation that he and Cedric had ever had, however inappropriate. 

Luckily for Arthur, though, Molly’s sights were firmly set on Charlie and she immediately turned back to her son. “Three years ago? And you’ve kept it from us for all this time?”

“That’s not how it was!” Charlie raised his voice a bit. “You’re not letting me tell you properly!” It occurred to Charlie that he should have treated this like a dragon moving day. The key was in the planning and a good and clear plan meant that everything went smoothly. Instead, he had been focused on enjoying his time with Lauren and Elliot all morning and he had started his story in the worst possible place.

“I hope you’ve been supporting them financially?” Arthur asked.

“Well no,” said Charlie. “I couldn’t, because –”

“There is NO excuse for that, Charlie.”

“How dare you leave that poor woman alone with a magical child?” Molly looked truly shocked.

“You earn a bloody fortune! Most surviving dragon keepers retire by their thirties because they’re so well off from the danger money. How could you not help them?”

“Gods, what happened to the lovely, kind little boy we raised, who tended to every sick animal within a half mile of The Burrow? How could you abandon your child?”

“I didn’t abandon my child!” Charlie pleaded with his eyes for them to given him a chance to speak without interruption, but Molly was too wound up to hear anything and Arthur was too concerned that Molly was going to blow a gasket. This all couldn’t have happened at a worse time. 

“So we have a grandchild and, all this time, you’ve kept it from us?” Molly rose from the table. She could feel the heat rising in her body again and the cooling charm had worn off within minutes. Arthur looked worried when he saw her red face.

“I did not,” said Charlie. “You’re not bloody giving me a chance to explain!”

“Don’t you speak to your mother like that, Charles Weasley! She has enough going on at the moment without you adding to her troubles.”

“Why, what’s the matter?” Charlie looked concerned for a moment. 

“Nothing that I want to discuss with you, thank you,” Molly told him sharply.

“Well that’s bloody nice, isn’t it?” Charlie bit back. “You have a go at me for not telling you things, but then you don’t want to talk to me either. Right, well as we’re going to all over-react in the traditional redheaded way and not talk calmly like adults, I’m off.”

Charlie stood up and strode towards the fireplace, initially intending to floo out of his childhood home. But he realised that one or both of his parents, upon hearing where he was going, would likely follow, and he didn’t want that to happen. He needed time to rethink this. So he turned on his dragon-skin boot heel and instead made for the front door. Before opening it, a thought occurred to him and he reached into his back pocket.

“Oh,” he said, pulling out the photo that Hermione had made for Lauren and tossing it on the table. “Here you are. This is your grandson. And for the record, I love him, and I love his mother. She’s not a random muggle to me. But I only found out about him myself last night. Let me know if you’re ever interested in shutting up long enough to hear the real story.”

Charlie strode away quickly, hot tears pricking at his eyes again. As soon as he was beyond the wards, he apparated to the home of the one person who he knew would always listen before reaching any judgment or conclusion. His brother and best friend, Bill Weasley.


	28. A crazy Weasley Saturday (part 3)

“Uh oh…” Bill’s mouth was full of bacon so he raised his eyebrows and nodded his head to get Fleur to look out of the window. His brother Charlie was striding across the lawn looking upset. The walk from the apparition point on the beach had calmed him a bit, but Bill knew Charlie well and his body language always revealed his feelings to those who took the time to study him.

It was Fleur who threw open the back door and held her arms out to him first. “Charlie, welcome, come in. We’re in the kitchen. What brings you en Angleterre, mon frère? Are you OK?” 

“Not really, but thanks. Bonjour, Fleur.” He hugged her, noticing how different it felt to put his arms around her tall, slim body after cuddling Lauren’s curves. He definitely liked his women shorter and rounder, and the thought of seeing and maybe holding Lauren in his arms again later cheered him up a bit. 

Bill stood up and gave Charlie another hug when his brother stepped into the blue and yellow kitchen. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Not hungry, thanks. Had two breakfasts already.” He pulled out a chair and sat down, his body more hunched than usual. It was clear to both the curse breakers that something was very wrong.

“What is it, Charlie?” Fleur put her hand on his shoulder, rubbing him gently in concern. “Or would you like me to go elsewhere so you can talk to Bill alone?”

“No, love,” Charlie covered his sister-in-law’s hand with his own. “You might as well hear it together. I’ve got enough people to tell; it’ll save time.” He looked at Bill. “I cocked up telling Mum and Dad something important. Made Mum so cross I couldn’t get a word in edgeways, but I need to tell you the important thing first else the rest won’t make any sense.”

“Go on, mate. Coffee?” Bill was continuing to eat his breakfast, and Charlie appreciated the sense of normality that this gave him. The weekend was proving to be rather more eventful and fuller than even he could have imagined, and he didn’t see that stopping anytime soon.

Charlie nodded. “That’d be great.” Although Bill didn’t share his and George’s penchant for proper, black, strong coffee, Fleur did. And Fleur had standards. As a result, Shell Cottage was one of the few places where he could guarantee that he wouldn’t regret saying yes to the offer of coffee, as the couple had pooled their skills to transfigure a top of the range muggle expresso machine into one that could be powered by magic. 

“I’ll make it,” said Fleur, giving Bill’s scars a gentle stroke with the back of her hand as she passed his chair. “I have finished eating.” 

This time, Charlie told the story calmly, in order and from the beginning. Bill and Fleur knew of Lauren’s existence because Charlie had once mentioned her to Bill when they were in the pub, but they had had no idea that his feelings for her ran so deep. Charlie explained how he had ended up telling the full story to Hermione and, with a fond smile, he described how Hermione had asked if she could look for Lauren using muggle communication. 

Slowly, so as to ensure he got it right this time, he brought them up-to-date with the events of the past twenty four hours. Fleur listened from the other side of the kitchen and she and Charlie’s coffee arrived at the table just in time for Charlie to witness her delighted, wide-eyed gasp as Charlie told them about Elliot, while Bill grinned widely. 

“Seriously? You’re a dad?”

Charlie pulled another of the pictures of Elliot out of his pocket and pushed it to his brother across the wooden table with two fingers. Bill looked at the photo and then back up at Charlie, as Fleur went to stand behind her husband and look at the photo of their nephew.

Bill’s grin seemed to be plastered to his face. “Don’t go mad, but I have to ask … this isn’t you and the twins having a laugh, is it? Doctor an old photo of you and put you in muggle clothes?”

“No,” Charlie laughed, the relief at his brother’s positive reaction seeping into his tense muscles and allowing him to relax a little. “He really does look that much like me.” 

If Bill had any lingering doubt about whether his brother was telling the truth, it dissolved when he saw the look that crossed Charlie’s face when he gazed down at the photo of his son. “Don’t think the thought hasn’t crossed their minds, though. They wanted to borrow Elliot and bring him over so they could tell you they had accidentally given me an age-reducing potion.” He grinned at Bill, who turned to look at Fleur.

“Have you ever seen a baby photo of Charlie?” Bill asked his wife, wiping the last bit of egg yolk from his plate with a slice of buttered toast.

Fleur shook her head. “I don’t think so, non. Not at this age. I shall have to ask Molly when I am next at The Burrow.”

Charlie winced. “Yeah, well you might want to give that a few minutes, love. Something’s up with mum, and dad’s on bloody tenterhooks, though I know it’s partly my fault too.”

“So what happened?” Bill’s voice was kind. Along with Arthur, he had been an arbiter of Weasley family fall-outs for many years now. 

“Honestly, I don’t know exactly how it went so wrong so quickly. I wanted to tell them myself, before word got out, and Gin was trying to get into the flat, so I had to get to Mum and Dad as soon as I could.” Bill nodded, encouraging Charlie to continue. “Well it was clear that something was up with Mum when I got there but I couldn’t wait for a better time. ‘Mione and the twins already knew, and you know what would have happened if Ginny and co found out and someone else turned up there and let it slip before I had told them.”

Fleur shook her head. “Big families … so complex.”

“Tell me about it,” sighed Bill, and Charlie grunted his agreement.

“So when I got there I clearly startled her and she wasn’t expecting me. Obviously, she thought I was in Romania, but what else could I have done? I didn’t even know I was coming to England until a couple of days ago and I didn’t want to tell them.” He pulled a wry face. “If it hadn’t gone well with Lauren, I’d have just slipped back to the reserve with my tail between my legs. And,” he grinned, “If it did go well, well I might not want to get out of her bed to go to Sunday bloody dinner!”

Bill shook his head and laughed as Charlie drank more coffee, but his face became more concerned again as Charlie looked down, remembering what had happened. 

“And I just cocked it up, Bill. I said the wrong bloody things in the wrong bloody order, and they both got the wrong end of the stick. Accused me of abandoning Lauren, not supporting her and Elliot, not telling them, and not once could I get them to shut the fuck up and listen to the actual story and tell them I didn’t even know about Elliot myself til last night. I know I should just have waited and let them rant but Mum was being so unreasonable and Dad was just stepping in and supporting her and drawing his own conclusions and I was just like, fuck, I need to get out of there.”

There was a long pause, and then a couple of hot tears dropped onto the table. “Fuck,” Charlie swore again under his breath. “What a weekend, and it’s only Saturday morning…”

Fleur drew her chair closer to Charlie’s and rubbed his back. “If it makes you feel better, I could tell you that Bill cried last week when I got my period.”

“What?” That stopped Charlie in his tracks.

Bill let out a short barking laugh and shrugged his shoulders. “It coincided with the wrong phase of the moon and I was a bit out of whack. Like you are now, so no judgement here, mate.” Seeing that Charlie still didn’t fully understand, he continued. “We’re working hard on making Elliot a cousin. Thought we might be the parents of the eldest Weasley grandchild, actually. Thought Freddie and ‘Mione were the only other contenders, so who knew you’d gone and beaten us all before we even met.” He looked at Fleur. “I was all hyped up and thought this was our month, but I was wrong…” He shrugged, and she reached across the table to take his hand in one of hers while reaching for Charlie’s with the other. She gave them both a squeeze.

“I love her,” said Charlie, looking at his brother and sister-in-law in turn, and they could see how much he meant it. “I love her so much. I know things will get sorted with mum and dad. I’m so bloody full of love for Lauren and for Elliot and I can’t keep it in. It just wants to spill out. I’m supposed to go back to the reserve tomorrow evening and right now I don’t care if I never go back there again. I just want to go back to Lauren’s and stay there and make it up to her.”

“Right,” said Bill. “I was wondering when I would get to step in and do my big brother thing. What’s first?”

“How do you mean?” asked Charlie. 

“Well, in no particular order, we need to make things straight with Mum and Dad, get you back to your little family, get you some time off from work and then make sure everyone else knows and has the right story so we don’t have any more of this misunderstanding nonsense.”

“If it helps, and would be acceptable for you,” Fleur touched Charlie’s arm. “I am meeting Penelope at noon. Percy is taking her for a special dinner this evening, and she has asked for my help in finding a nice outfit. I could tell her, if you like?” 

“That would be brilliant,” said Charlie, looking a bit more relived. “I forget we’re all interconnected. I thought I was going to have to tell everyone.”

“I don’t think you do at all,” said Bill, shaking his head. “This is the upside of a big family. You said Hermione will be telling Ginny right about now?”

“Yeah,” said Charlie. “So the next thing will be Ginny flooing to The Burrow to gossip with Mum and then another big row between her and Mum when she realises Mum’s jumped to conclusions and got it all wrong.”

Bill looked at Fleur. “We could help with that?”

Fleur lifted her wand and summoned her shoes. “Of course. I’ll go right away and let Hermione and Ginny know what happened.”

“Can you ask them to make sure they tell Ron and Harry, love?” Bill added.

“I will. Au revoir. All will be well, Charlie,” Fleur reassured her brother-in-law, taking his cheeks into her hands and placing a kiss on each of them in turn before she stepped into the fireplace. “I am very excited to meet them,” she smiled.

“Alright then, the reserve next,” said Bill, as Fleur disappeared. “What’s the deal with getting you more time off?”

“I’ve got tons of leave owed,” said Charlie. “I’m supposed to be taking it soon. It’s short notice though.”

“Well send an owl now, requesting that you take a week or so of leave with immediate effect to sort some family business that has unexpectedly arisen, and see what happens. And say that, if you can’t have a week right away, you’d like one as soon as humanly possible.” He stood up and opened a drawer, pulling out some parchment and a quill. Handing it to Charlie, he indicated that Charlie should start writing while he went to fetch their owl from his favourite daytime snoozing spot. 

When Charlie had finished writing, Bill took the letter from him and tied it to the snowy owl, letting him know where he was taking it. 

“When you’ve delivered that,” said Charlie to the owl, “go and find Elena. She’s with my friend Piotr. She can come back with the reply and Piotr will make sure you get to hunt and rest before you fly back.” He gave the owl a quick scratch before it took off on its journey and then handed the owl a small piece of bacon rind from the edge of Bill’s plate. Bill smiled to himself; Charlie was always calmer and more focused when he had creatures to love and care for.

“OK, so now us?” Bill asked. “Shall we bite the bullet and go there now, or do you need more time first?”

Charlie pulled a face. “I don’t suppose it’s going to get any easier?”

“I don’t suppose it will.”

“OK then.” Charlie held up his wand and Bill followed suit. Together they apparated to the outer edge of The Burrow’s wards and began the walk to the kitchen door.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

“Oh Gods,” said Hermione to Fleur, once the older witch was settled on the other sofa. The twins had gone down to the shop, leaving the three witches to chat alone, though they were monitoring the situation through their shared bond. “So they took it really badly?”

“It sounds like Charlie hadn’t really planned what to say and so he began in the wrong place and they jumped to conclusions and it all went down the hill from there.”

“Bugger,” said Ginny under her breath. “Mum’s been a bit out of sorts all week. And she wasn’t great the morning after your wedding either,” she looked at Hermione, “though at the time I just assumed she was tired from all the excitement. She’s not getting any younger, and there’s been lots of change rather quickly, what with the war and you and Fred and everything…”

There was quiet while they all digested that.

“What do we do now?” Hermione asked no-one in particular.

“Nothing,” replied Fleur. “Except for telling the others and letting them know to perhaps stay away from The Burrow for today. I will tell Penelope when I meet her for lunch, so she will tell Percy. Then if you can tell Harry and Ron, Ginny, then that will be everyone who needs to know for now.”

“What about Sunday dinner?”

“What about it?” Ginny looked at Hermione. “We have to assume it’s going ahead as normal unless we hear otherwise from Mum, and we’ll just have to wait and see if Charlie and his new little family are there or not. Gods, I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward to a meal so much!”

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

“Gods, I don’t think I’ve ever dreaded something so much,” Charlie said as he and Bill approached the kitchen door of The Burrow. 

“Just say sorry and then I’ll do the talking, if you want?”

Charlie nodded. “That would be great. I’m happy to keep my gob shut forever more, Bill. Just say the word if you need me to cast a healing spell on you or anything…”

Bill snorted, and then opened the door. “Good morning,” he said to his parents, who were both sat at the table. Molly was crying, and Arthur looked almost as distressed. They both nodded a greeting.

“I’m sorry,” said Charlie, speaking slowly and ensuring he looked at them both so they could see he meant it. “Although maybe not for the reasons you think. But I’m crap at this, so I’ve brought someone better at communicating than me…”

Bill began at the beginning and managed, to Charlie’s eternal gratitude, to ensure that Molly and Arthur had the real facts of the story within a few minutes. 

“So you didn’t know anything?” Arthur asked, half because he wanted to ensure he had understood correctly this time and half because he wanted to ensure that Molly had.

“No,” Charlie shook his head. “But that’s not Lauren’s fault … she had no way of finding me either. It was just an unfortunate set of circumstances and I don’t like to think about what would have happened if Hermione hadn’t asked to help.”

“And now? I assume you’ll do the right thing and propose to her, son?” Arthur looked at Bill for support in this, but Bill suddenly found a speck of link on his shirt that needed his attention.

“I don’t know, dad. It’s all been a bit sudden and I think we all need a bit of time to get used to it.”

“Why wouldn’t you propose, Charlie?” Oh marvellous, he thought; even with all the facts, Molly was about to go off again. He looked at Bill, who nodded in encouragement and Charlie knew he would have his back this time if need be.

He spoke softly and slowly this time. “Because I don’t want to scare her off, Mum? Because this is so new that I don’t know if I’d get it right? Because she’s only just learned about magic and she’s a bit freaked out by it? Because she doesn’t know if our worlds could mix? Because she’s a feminist cultural anthropologist who lectures about how rituals like marriage contain elements of misogyny? 

“Don’t you use long words with me, Charlie Weasley. As I reminded you at Fred’s wedding, you are not too old for a spanking.” At least she wasn’t shouting this time and he thought that she was trying to make a joke, but he couldn’t be completely certain.

“Oh, please give me a break, Mum.” Charlie was struggling to keep control of his voice.

“Why? Because you lost sight of the way to do right by this girl?”

“No, Mum. Because I need you.” 

That stopped Molly in her tracks. 

Charlie’s hand was raking through his hair, and Molly recalled how that had always been one of the first signs of distress in this particular Weasley boy. 

“And you Dad. I need you both. I need you to help me learn how to fucking parent. I didn’t get the nine-month lead-in time, or the chance to fuck up a bit and put his nappies on upside down before he was properly sentient and could notice. I’ve got a walking, talking two year old who’s calling me daddy, Mum! And let’s be clear, he is way, way more intelligent than I am, and I don’t fucking know where to start with that. If you need to berate me more, then so be it, but please … can you save it for another day? This only happened last night and, right now, I need to get back to them so I can figure out how to be a parent. Please…”

“Well firstly,” said Molly, as she stood from her chair and walked slowly towards Charlie’s, her eyes still unreadable. “You’ll need to manage without the word ‘fuck’ for the next decade or two. I learned that the hard way, when Bill said it to Auntie Muriel.” She reached out her arms and held Charlie to her ample bosom for a proper cuddle for the first time in many years. Of all her children, Charlie had always been the cuddliest as a baby, especially when he was sick or sad, but he was also the most independent as he grew, disappearing into the depths of the garden for hours on end and returning with all manner of creatures which he tried his damndest to sneak into the house. 

As she caressed Charlie with one arm, Molly lifted her wand with the other, murmuring, “accio firewhisky.” Bugger the physical consequences this time; she’d just have to lay on the flagstones again. As soon as the bottle reached her hand Molly repeated the spell and summoned four glasses. “Family crisis,” she whispered skywards, as if needing to explain herself to the gods of morning drinking as she poured them each a generous measure. “Ask Hermione…” she smiled at the three wizards who were staring at her in uncertainty. She put a glass into Charlie’s hand and tapped it with her own before taking a sip.

“I’m sorry, son. I’m listening now,” she said, and then summoned her chair over and sat quietly next to him, holding his hand while he continued to spill out and try to make sense of his feelings. Bill and Arthur picked up and clinked their own glasses, sharing a look of relief.

Once Charlie had finished, Molly’s advice was succinct. “The most important thing to remember, my Charlie, is that you can’t really go wrong here. You will make mistakes, but he’s going to love you no matter what; that’s just the way it is. And the one thing I can tell you from raising seven kids is that they all come with their own personalities and there’s very little you can do to change that. Your job is to keep them safe, love them up and try and steer them in the right sort of direction.”

Arthur was nodding in agreement.

“And put sticking charms on their training brooms when they’re not looking if they’re not good flyers,” added Arthur. Bill suppressed a laugh, remembering that it had taken Ron a while to get the hang of flying, and Percy had never been that comfortable on a broom. Fred, George and Ginny, however, had taken to it like ducks to water.

“Accept that some will be prefects, some will open joke shops and be annoyingly successful at it,” Molly continued, winking at that, to Charlie’s surprise. He assumed it was the alcohol. “And some will go and get muggle girls pregnant...” She took another sip of her firewhisky, looking into her son’s eyes over the glass. Her eyes were filled with tears and Charlie worried that his actions had hurt her. Before he could open his mouth to ask her forgiveness, she continued, looking at Arthur, “…and make their parents so proud with the way they want to learn to do the right thing. Now you get back to that lovely woman and your son right now and decide together when I can meet my grandson.”

Arthur was nodding furiously as Molly delivered her final view on the subject. “My vote is that you bring them here tomorrow for Sunday dinner. That way, they can meet everyone at once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an aside ... if you're interested, I have just posted the first chapter of a new (unrelated to this) Hermione/Charlie story, called Nightlights. It's the first time I've ever written a story where Hermione kisses anyone except Fred (though she very nearly kisses Fred in it lol ... I couldn't resist!) 
> 
> It won't affect the posting of this one :-)


	29. A crazy Weasley Saturday (part 4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so I know some people (here and elsewhere) are very keen to get to The Burrow, but this is a slow, relaxed story! We will get there in a couple of chapters time, but we need to find out what happens on the Saturday afternoon and evening first! Also, if anyone's interested, I have just started to post a Charlie/Hermione story, called Nightlights. It's shorter than this one and there are three chapters up so far, with another coming when I can get time to edit it, hopefully this weekend :-)

By comparison to the morning, Saturday afternoon was a relatively calm one for most of the Weasleys. Bill and Charlie left The Burrow on good terms with their parents, with Charlie having promised to talk to Lauren about coming over for Sunday dinner, and they walked together to the outer wards. A quick hug at the gate said everything that they needed to, and then Bill twisted off, back to Shell Cottage. Charlie wasn’t ready to head straight into a new interaction though. He needed time to think. So he set off on foot towards the hill, hoping that a good walk would give him a bit of space to process what had happened and consider some of the important decisions that had been swirling around in his mind for the past day or so. He could easily find somewhere secluded to apparate from when he got there; it was usually deserted anyway.

Once their eldest sons had left The Burrow, Arthur proposed a new plan for Sunday dinner. Not wanting to put too much pressure on Molly, he offered to floo to their favourite wizarding butcher’s shop so they could have a barbeque instead of a Molly-cooked meal, as they had done for Hermione and Fred’s wedding.

“I’ll go to the baker’s and greengrocer’s too if you make me a list, love,” he said. “And get salad and stuff. And,” he said, hoping to appeal to Molly's mothering instincts, “with Lauren being a muggle then that'll be more familiar than us sitting at the table levitating bowls around.”

On any other day, Molly might have protested. She enjoyed making a fuss and preparing a big family dinner, especially when her whole brood would be there. But on this occasion she knew Arthur was right. She summoned the list-making quill that George had given her and made short work of writing out what they needed. 

By two o’clock, Arthur was on his way around the shops, having settled Molly into a garden chair under Hermione’s favourite sewing tree with a pot of tea and some yarn catalogues. When he came back a couple of hours later, she was asleep under one of the catalogues, and he left her there. He had unexpectedly bumped into Phil at the greengrocer’s and had – in an uncharacteristic fit of romance – made a tentative booking with his friend for that evening. It was about time they visited the restaurant that Hermione and the twins were always raving about, and he hoped that Molly would say yes to going out for dinner for a change.

A few miles away, Fleur was still out when Bill returned to Shell Cottage but, after lunch, dress shopping and news sharing with Penny, she joined him and they spent the afternoon gardening and gossiping about the new development in their family life. “We’ll have to ask if we can borrow Elliot for some practice,” said Fleur, eyeing Bill up and down as he knelt on all fours in front of her lifting weeds from the borders with his wand. She had another kind of practice in mind for him that evening. 

Bill chuckled as he turned around. “I’d like that, but I suspect we’ll have to get in line. Best we continue to work on making one of our own, I think,” he said in a low voice, as he crawled towards Fleur, gently pushing her backwards and covering her body with his own.

Meanwhile, Ginny flooed back to Grimmauld Place to share Charlie’s news with Ron and Harry, who were both a bit surprised but less interested in the romantic elements of the situation than Ginny would have liked. They saw no reason not to continue with their original plan for the day, which involved using the free tickets that Angelina had given them to her team’s quidditch game. Shrugging, Ginny decided that she may as well go with them; she loved quidditch as much as they did and there would be plenty of time to chat later. Or, better still, she thought, eyeing Ron, she could find someone who would be more open to conversing about the latest development while they watched. She turned to her brother. “You have four tickets, right?” 

“Yes,” Ron nodded. 

“Shall I floo call Luna and invite her too, then? Seems a shame to let it go to waste…”

Ron’s eyes lit up, and Ginny moved towards the fireplace. Now she could enjoy the game and dissect the latest Weasley news at the same time. She resolved to do Ron another favour and invite Luna for Sunday dinner as well, on the basis that the blonde witch would be able to witness the next instalment in the expanding Weasley family saga.

Back in Diagon Alley, once Fleur and Ginny had left the flat, Hermione went down to the shop to see Fred and George.

“Well you’re a sight for sore eyes,” said George. The shop was the busiest it had been since the end of the war and the boys hadn’t had a chance to stop since they had gone downstairs. “We had originally hoped to both go to Ange’s game this afternoon, but it’s a good job we changed our minds this morning. I don’t think we can even get out to get lunch, so we’d never have been able to leave Lee and Verity to manage by themselves. It’s great for business, but things have picked up faster than we ever imagined…”

Hermione took a quick look around. “I’ll go out and buy lunch,” she said, “and then I’ll cover each of you in turn so you can take a break. I don’t have much on.”

“You’re a star!” George delved into his pocket and fished out a small multi-coloured pouch. “Use that, love; it’s our petty cash bag. It’s keyed into the business account at Gringotts. Can you get a load of sandwiches, and maybe a few chocolate bars for later? We’ve already got juice and butterbeers in the staff fridge.”

Hermione gave him a quick salute as he turned back to help another customer. Heading for the door, she saw Fred restocking shelves. “I’m off to get lunch for you all,” she told him. He smiled and nodded; he had picked that much up through the bond. 

When she returned, the rush seemed to have died down a bit; perhaps because many of those who had decided to spend the day out in Diagon Alley had had the same idea about stopping to enjoy lunch. “How about I take these up to the roof garden,” she said, “and you can each have a few minutes of peace and quiet in the sun?”

“What a great idea,” said Verity. 

“You and Lee go first,” Fred told her. “It’s only fair; you’ve been here since first thing, while George and I sauntered in halfway through the day…”

Verity and Lee didn’t need to be told twice. Lee took the sandwich platter from Hermione while Verity collected drinks from the fridge.

“Take your usual break,” George said to them. “Hermione said she’ll help, and we’ll send a message if it gets crazy and we need you back sooner.”

Hermione enjoyed helping in the shop; it was so different from anything else she had ever done, although she knew that she wouldn’t want to be on the shop floor full time. But on an occasional basis it was fun to help restock and direct customers. She was much better versed in the Wonder Witch product line than the jokes and pranks, but the existence of the bond ensured that one of the boys would sense anytime she felt out of her depth. When that happened, she would soon feel a reassuring hand on her shoulder or arm as either George or Fred arrived to join and then smoothly insert themselves into the conversation, allowing Hermione to wander off to find something more up her own street. She marvelled at how well the two men worked and communicated together, now understanding that this was partly thanks to their bond.

When Lee and Verity returned to the shop floor, they assured Fred, George and Hermione that they would be fine on their own for half an hour now that the rush had abated, so all three of them took a lunch break on the roof. “You don’t need to come back down, love,” said Fred to Hermione, as they finished their butterbeers. “It won’t be as busy in the afternoon; it never is.”

“Don’t you want to go to Ange’s game though?” Hermione asked George. “Ginny and Harry are going … maybe Ron as well.”

He shook his head. “I had a chat with her while you were with Fleur and Gin this morning and told her what was going on for me. She thinks I should spend the day with Fred, and the evening and night, if you’ll still have me?” He looked a bit embarrassed.

“Of course we will,” Hermione assured him, rubbing his arm.

“What would you like to do this evening, love?” Fred asked Hermione.

She considered his question for a moment. “Do you know what I would love to do?”

Fred shook his head, slightly confused. Of course he didn’t; that was why he had asked. The bond could tell them about someone’s current feelings, but not about their hopes, unless they were translated into a specific picture or desire. Fred tried to sense her desire down the bond, but Hermione continued speaking before he could reach any conclusions.

“I would love to cook a meal for us. And George, of course.” She smiled. “Something plain and healthy; maybe a roast chicken and some salads … I’ve had enough take away for a bit, and I’d like to be domestic. I’m going to send Lauren a quick email and check she’s OK but then I’d like to put my feet up. I don’t want to go out; I think tomorrow is going to be busy and I’d like an early night. You two should go to the pub though…” She looked up at Fred, wondering if he would tease her for being boring.

Instead, he put his arm around her; proud that she was learning to state her own needs. “That sounds lovely. Georgie and I could do with a bit of pub time after dinner, I reckon.” Then, in words echoing his father’s, he added, “If you want to make me a grocery list, I’ll pop out quickly and bring it up to you as soon as I get back.”

A couple of hundred miles west of them, Charlie was still striding over the soft grass of Stoatshead Hill, but he was almost ready to apparate back to Lauren and Elliot. His method of processing was very different from Hermione’s. If something was on her mind, she liked to stay put and either engage in research, sewing or domestic activities while she sorted her head out. Charlie needed to move his body briskly through space – either on foot or on his broom, but that was back in Romania and it hadn’t occurred to him to take one of the old ones from the shed before he left The Burrow – in order to let his thoughts catch up with each other. 

He stopped at the edge of a copse and sat down on a fallen log, checking that no-one was around before casting aguamenti and taking a long drink from his wand. It was hot, and he splashed some of the water onto his face, hoping that he wouldn’t look too dishevelled when he returned to Bristol. But then he smiled, remembering that Lauren had never had a problem with his state when he had returned from long walks in Romania. On more than one occasion, he recalled with a smile and a familiar twitching in his trousers, she had used the excuse of him being hot and sweaty to pull him towards her shower. She would strip off her own clothes as well as his own and they would slowly and carefully soap and rinse each other’s bodies before taking themselves, still wet, to her secluded balcony and making love on one of the padded sunbeds. 

Bringing himself back to the present and looking around him, Charlie realised that he had made his decision and that it felt right. Now he just needed to tell Lauren. Checking all around him to ensure that there weren’t any muggle dog walkers in sight to wonder how he had vanished, Charlie reached for his wand and twisted, thinking of her garden.

He didn’t hear the quiet “whoosh” that his son whispered just before he landed, because both Elliot and Lauren were inside the cottage. The kitchen door was wide open and he could hear music playing softly inside, but it didn’t feel quite right to walk in, particularly as he hadn’t actually been inside Lauren’s cottage yet. So he knocked, calling her name.

Just a few seconds later, a harassed-looking Lauren appeared in the kitchen. “Come in, Charlie,” she said, walking over to give him a kiss on the cheek. She would have pulled away, but Charlie brought her body to his chest for a hug.

“You feel stressed, love. What is it?”

“Your son is giving me a bit of a hard time today.” She sighed. “He’s just thoroughly overexcited by everything that has happened, and he has too much energy. Really, I should take him out again and let him run some of it off, but…” She trailed off.

“What is it, love?” Charlie tipped her chin up to look at her face, still keeping his other arm around her.

She shrugged. “I just really wanted a few hours of pottering about the house. But I need to accept that his needs are greater than mine at the moment and take him out somewhere.”

“No, you don’t, love,” Charlie told her. “I can help now. Where is he?”

“On the naughty step.” Lauren pulled a face. “But it’s probably my behaviour that needs to change, not his. He needs to be able to make sense of all of this just as much as I do.” 

“Can I talk to him?”

“Of course, Charlie … he’s your son too,” she said softly.

“I don’t want to undermine you, though. I’ve not had any practice at this.” He tightened his hug.

“Just listen to him and be honest in your answers. I’d rather you didn’t disagree with me in front of him, for the sake of consistency. And I’ll do the same. If you think I’m being unreasonable or there’s something I don’t know, then tell Elliot to wait a moment and we’ll discuss it privately.” She sighed. “I see too many kids who learn that they can play parents off against each other, and who have uncertain boundaries and it doesn’t help anyone. Especially when their parents aren’t together.”

“I understand that,” Charlie said into her ear. He wanted to say something about them being together, and then decided it might not be the right time. Instead, he decided to share a bit about his own day. “I faced the united parent thing this morning and, as annoying as it is, I get why it’s important.”

Lauren chuckled. “Did you have to sit on the naughty step?”

She felt Charlie’s body sag a bit. “Don’t even joke about it, love.”

“Oh fuck, Charlie, I’m sorry.” She pulled back a bit and looked into his eyes, as if they contained the answer to an important question. 

“It’s OK, love, I’m OK,” he reassured. “Just a bit of a day. I’ll be glad to see the end of it, to be honest.”

“What are your plans? Do you have plans? Oh, hang on a mo…” Lauren realised that Elliot was still on the step and she didn’t want to leave him there while she and Charlie had a long heart-to-heart. “See in there?” She pointed to the fridge that was on the other side of the kitchen. “There are some cold beers in there; help yourself. You look like you’ve run a mile and could do with one.” She pointed in a different direction. “The opener is in that drawer.”

“Gods, I love you,” he whispered as he kissed her temple before he headed across the room.

Lauren didn’t reply to Charlie, but she went into the hallway to get their son. “OK, lovely, have you managed to calm down a bit?”

“Yes, mummy,” Elliot said.

“OK,” she reached out her hand for Elliot’s. “Come and see who’s in the kitchen.”

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Once George and Fred had returned to work, shopping list in hand, Hermione had managed to sit on the sofa for six whole minutes of peace and quiet before the floo roared into life and Charlie and Elliot appeared in her living room.

“Miney!” Elliot shouted! “Where’s Fred?”

“He’s down in the shop, lovely. How are you?”

“I’m OK,” he told her. “I floo with Daddy.”

“So you did,” she laughed, as Charlie put Elliot down on the floor. Immediately, he ran to Fred and Hermione’s bedroom, looking for Graham.

“Oh … do you mind?” Charlie asked Hermione.

“Not in the slightest,” she shook her head. 

“We’re not stopping long,” Charlie said, plonking himself down on the sofa anyway. “I only brought him to give Lauren some time to herself. She told me about the café and Elliot and I walked there to use the floo. Well, some of us walked all the way and some of us ran out of energy after half a mile and got carried the rest, but at least he might sleep tonight! Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I’m staying there tonight. Didn’t want you to have to wonder whether I’d be here for dinner or on the sofa.”

“Thank you. That was very thoughtful,” Hermione told him. 

Charlie grinned. “Not really, love. I needed a destination, and I love visiting you.”

Hermione chuckled. “Well I’m happy, because I’ve been wondering how you were. Fleur told us what happened. Were your mum and dad OK when you and Bill went back?”

“It was better, but something’s definitely up with Mum, and Dad’s in full protective mode. They want us all there for dinner tomorrow. I’ve not had a chance to talk properly to Lauren yet, but I’m going to suggest that we go early and let everyone know to give us a bit of time before they join.” He shrugged. “It’s hard to know what’s best, really.”

“It’ll all work out,” Hermione told him. “It’s been a bit of a surprise for everyone. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Maybe… If I get Lauren to send you an emu, can you let the others know?”

Hermione laughed. “Absolutely. The boys are going out this evening, so I can floo call your siblings to my heart’s content amidst my reading and sewing.”

“And some other time,” he continued, “I was wondering if I could talk to you about communication.”

“I don’t think I’m exactly an expert,” she said, assuming he was talking about Molly. “I think your mum’s just having a hard time at the moment. I might go over and have a chat with her sometime next week … see if there’s anything I can do to help…”

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Charlie smiled. “I mean I need to find a better way to keep in touch with Lauren, and for her to reach me quickly if she needs help. I wondered if I could do emus too or if there’s something else I could learn to use?”

Hermione did her best not to laugh at Charlie’s conviction that muggle forms of communication must necessarily be creature-related. “Well I did think about that earlier,” she told him. “I think you and I should get ourselves mobile phones. I know Lauren has one, because I’ve seen it, so we could send messages and call each other. It’d be good for her to be able to reach someone other than you quickly, especially when you’re abroad. But I need to talk to Seamus as well. They don’t usually work around magic, but his dad’s a muggle and he uses one to chat to him, so he must know of a way to rig it.” She pulled an amused face at the memory of her friend’s love of combusting things. “Hopefully without too much collateral damage to the surrounding furniture.”

Charlie didn’t completely understand what that would entail, but he trusted Hermione. “That sounds good,” he said.

“I’ll talk to Lauren about it tomorrow,” she promised. “I’ll probably need to get them both set up on the same account, but we can use my parents’ address and my muggle bank account to pay for them. Let me look into it; there are lots of options and I’ll make sure I find one that will work in Romania without breaking the bank…”

“Well I don’t mind what it costs, and you can just tell me how much money to give you,” Charlie told her. “But,” and he lowered his voice, even though Elliot could be clearly heard having a one-sided conversation with Graham in Hermione’s bedroom, “I’ll not be going back there for long, love. I’ve decided to resign and come back to England. The reserve is no place for kids, and Lauren needs more family and friends around her, not less.”

Hermione nodded slowly. She wasn’t surprised that he was thinking that way, but she wondered whether this was a conversation that he had yet had with Lauren. Deciding it was none of her business, she simply said, “well I won’t actually do anything til we talk again; I’ll just look into the options for you and we can go from there.” She reached out to touch Charlie’s arm, smiling as the news sunk in. “I’m so glad you’re coming home; it’s going to be great to have you around more. And your mum’s going to be beside herself with joy when you tell her!”

“I know,” said Charlie, grinning back. “I’m going to save it as my trump card in case she goes off on one again tomorrow!”


	30. A calmer Weasley Saturday evening

That evening saw six very different Weasley dinners. Molly had a lovely time putting a dress on and going to Phil’s restaurant with Arthur, who took the opportunity to tell her that he had been asked to go to a meeting the next week to discuss a new role with Kingsley. “I get the feeling it’ll pay more,” he told his wife. “So we could make this a regular occasion, if you like?”

Molly did like the idea of that, especially given that Phil had had a quiet word with the waiters, ensuring that Molly would be attended, pampered and complimented within an inch of her life. Which made her very receptive to Arthur’s suggestion that, tomorrow, she needed to be open and honest with the rest of her family about what was going on for her. She agreed, knowing that she couldn’t carry on trying to cope without support. “I’ll tell them over lunch,” she said, and Arthur found he felt more relieved than he could have imagined.

Percy and Penelope were also out, at a new and fancy restaurant which had just opened in the magical quarter of Bath. Percy had bought new robes for the occasion and Penelope felt wonderful in the outfit that Fleur had helped her choose. The effort was not without cause; while they were waiting for their dessert to arrive, Percy got down on one knee and quietly proposed marriage to Penelope.

“You know that Kingsley’s plan will be all over the press for the next few weeks,” he said, “and I want you to be clear that I’m under no pressure to do this. Neither do I feel the need to ‘do my bit’. I simply can’t think of a life without you by my side, and I would love it if you would do me the honour of marrying me?”

“I’d love to, Percy … yes,” she said, as the other diners discreetly congratulated them and their waiter brought two glasses of champagne and a double helping of a decadent-looking dessert on one plate with two forks.

“I’m not sure if tomorrow is the right time to tell the family or not,” he added, unsure of what Penelope would think of that.

But she nodded. “Gosh no, not with Charlie’s news. Why don’t we play it by ear and see if there’s a good opportunity to tell them without making a fuss? I don’t want a big fuss, Percy, either now or when we get married, so it might work out well.”

Percy reached for her hand. He was so glad to have found someone who suited him so well and whose energy matched his own.

His eldest brother Bill was equally delighted to have found a witch whose energy matched his own, but in a rather different way. He and Fleur barely ate dinner that evening, simply grabbing a sandwich each to fortify their lovemaking. His inner wolf had sensed that Fleur might be fertile again, and he was going to take every chance of getting them pregnant this month, which meant foregoing culinary pleasures. Fleur wasn’t complaining; she loved sex with Bill, especially when he was this attentive for long periods of time. She could eat tomorrow; there was always food to spare at Molly’s.

Ron, Ginny, Harry and Luna ate together. The quidditch game had been a relatively long one, and they were so hungry when it finished that they held hands in pairs and apparated to a quiet alley which opened out onto the edge of muggle London and was just a couple of hundred yards from a row of stalls selling street food from around the world.

Ron and Harry had learned about the area from Fred and George, who had been such poor cooks when they first left school that they ate out almost every night and thus were constantly on the lookout for new varieties of food. “It’s great here, isn’t it?” Ron asked the others through a mouthful of kebab, as they all sat on the grass in a square surrounded by entertainers and pub gardens, and they agreed. As he reached absentmindedly for Luna’s hand, Ginny nudged Harry, who pretended not to notice. Ginny had already invited Luna for Sunday dinner and she was quietly watching the blonde witch and her youngest brother, hoping that they would get themselves properly together before too much more time had passed.

Fred and George, by contrast, were happy that their own culinary skills had improved and happier still that Hermione now shared this role with them, especially on days as busy as the one they had just had. They went upstairs after closing the shop and restocking ready for the Monday morning, making appreciative noises as the smell of roasting chicken wafted through the flat. 

“It’s ready whenever you are,” Hermione told them, waving them up to the roof, where they found a whole array of different salads under a cooling charm that she had also modified to keep insects away. “I made several so they’ll last us a few days,” she said. 

“Good thinking, Madame Planning Manager,” George smiled. “Are you still planning to join us in your new role on Monday?”

Hermione smiled back. “That’s why I’m thinking ahead.” She indicated the table. “This is my work lunch for the first couple of days next week!”

Fred pulled her to his side, desperate to hold her after their hours of being apart. He was so, so in love with her, and the fact that she was so different from him just delighted him every day. George saw the gesture and raised his eyebrows.

“Still want to come pubbing with me, Freddie? Or would you rather I went out and left you to your lovely wife?”

Hermione looked lovingly at Fred, pressing the palm of her hand against his waist and tucking her head under his chin. “Georgie, once I’ve cuddled him during dinner, he’s all yours. I’ve been looking forward to my alone time all day! And besides, I need to send a few owls. I was going to floo, but half your family are either out or not responding!” 

She had her suspicions as to why the floo was closed at Shell Cottage, but she wasn’t going to tell Fred and George that, else they would run on about it all day tomorrow. Unfortunately, she forgot that the mental picture in her head was as good as sending them an explicit postcard, and George immediately laughed.

“Oh yes? And how do you know that, Hermione?”

“I don’t,” she blushed. “Just a feeling I have. A sense I got from Fleur today, though I can’t explain it. I think they’re trying for a baby; hopefully they’ll have some news for us soon.”

Fred decided to rescue his wife. “So what are you trying to tell them, love?”

“Oh, Charlie came over,” she said, wiping her fingers with a napkin. “With Elliot. They’re all planning to go over to Mum and Dad’s tomorrow morning, so I said I would let everyone else know to not turn up until after midday, to give them time together before we all get there.”

Fred gently rubbed her back. She was so thoughtful, and he loved how happy she was to help things run smoothly in the large Weasley family. And his job was to make sure things ran smoothly for her. “And is there anything you need, lovely?” he asked. “Georgie and I can run and get the shop owls after dinner, but can we do anything else to make your evening easier?”

“Clear up while I write notes?” she suggested, and they both nodded.

“Done,” they said in unison, getting up from the table and levitating plates and leftovers with their wands.

Owls dispatched, the boys headed out to the pub and Hermione settled back on the sofa with some sewing. Soon, she thought, she would have to see if Lauren might enjoy an evening together. She would love to look more closely at some of Lauren’s craft projects, and she also secretly coveted Lauren’s DVD player. She didn’t know whether there was a way of making a TV player work around magic – although that would be another question that she imagined Seamus could help with, summoning her special quill to add his name to her growing list of things to do – but she loved the idea of having a close woman muggle friend again. Once Hermione had been told she was a witch, and especially after she began to attend Hogwarts, it wasn’t easy to maintain relationships with friends who weren’t magical. Because of all the things she wasn’t allowed to tell them, for a start. She wondered how that would work for Lauren and then smiled to herself, remembering Charlie’s ongoing plea for her to stop worrying about others, and simply concentrated on enjoying the peace of the flat and her thinking time.

Back in Bristol, Charlie’s efforts to exhaust his son had worked well, and Lauren’s two boys had returned home happy and more settled.

“I saw Graham,” Elliot announced upon his arrival home. “And Miney,” he added, as an afterthought.”

“Great!” Lauren said. “And did you work off some of your energy?”

“I ride on Daddy’s shoulders!”

“You did quite a bit of walking too though … it was a long way…” Charlie added.

“Can I dig?” Elliot asked, and Lauren nodded. “Of course you can,” but he had already run out of the back door and towards his sandpit.

She turned to Charlie. “I made us a chilli for dinner; I hope that works for you?”

“Sounds lovely. What can I do to help?”

“Grate some cheese?” She opened the fridge door and handed Charlie an unopened packet of cheddar as he reached for one of the bowls that were resting in the wooden rack on the wall in front of him. Holding the cheese carefully, he slit the packet with his wand, tossed the cheese gently into the air above the bowl and then, just as his mother had taught him, applied a grating charm and smoothly directed the perfectly shredded cheese into the bowl. He vanished the wrapper and held the bowl out to a stunned-looking Lauren, whose hand had come to a halt in the drawer which held the cheese grater.

It wasn’t the first time that Lauren realised what a chasm they had to cross, but she would remember it – and the events that followed – for the rest of her life as an everyday but key moment in her journey with Charlie Weasley.

“Oh Gods,” Charlie realised what he had done, and reholstered his wand, stepping forward to take Lauren into his arms. “Shall I put it somewhere, like Fred had us do last night? I just don’t think … I’m sorry, love. I managed it when we were in Romania; I used to hide it, so I wouldn’t accidentally grab it in front of you. I could do that here too.” He began looking around the kitchen, seeking somewhere that his wand would be safe.

Lauren gave a small laugh and patted his chest. “It’s OK, Charlie. I’ll get used to it. I don’t want you to have to hide who you are, or what you can do. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

Charlie managed ten whole minutes without using magic after that; testing the chilli with a wooden spoon and then learning how to make guacamole from scratch, the muggle way. But when there was a shriek from the sandpit, it was Charlie who reached their crying son first. Lauren’s first instinct was to join them, but she stopped herself, realising that Elliot wasn’t hurt and that she needed to give Charlie the chance to parent their child as well. She watched him put his hand on the little boy’s back and then scoop something up from the sand. He took his wand from his pocket, pointed it at his hand and then handed whatever was in it to Elliot. 

Now Lauren needed to see what was happening. She moved closer.

“Hello,” she said, trying to keep her voice level despite having mixed feelings about the way in which Charlie had so casually taken out and used his wand again.

“Mummy!” Elliot’s eyes were shiny with tears but he looked happy as he showed her what was in his hand. “A worm was hurted with my spade and Daddy made him better with magic!”

Lauren looked at Charlie, and he closed his eyes, realising only then what he had done. It was one thing to use his magic in front of Lauren, but each act of magic that Elliot was exposed to made it harder and harder for Lauren to imaging how she could continue to live in the non-magical world. Elliot was such a chatterbox and he was so proud of his Daddy that he would be bound to want to tell his friends and their parents all about him and the wonderful things he did. Some things – like Graham, and the rabbits that Fred conjured – could be put down to Elliot’s overactive imagination and perhaps she could tell their friends that Charlie was practised at stage magic to explain other happenings that Elliot might discuss, but instantly healing an injured worm? That would be harder to laugh off, even as crazy as it sounded. And she didn’t want to confuse Elliot or cause him dissonance by having him hear her deny or dismiss things that he had seen with his own eyes.

Charlie spoke quietly, but Elliot was so preoccupied with taking the worm to a part of the garden where he would be safer that he wasn’t listening anyway. “I can make him forget that I did that, if you want?”

Lauren’s look was sharp. “Mess with our child’s brain? I don’t think so, Charlie!”

Charlie hung his head. When put like that, it sounded so harsh.

“I’m sorry, love. I should have thought to take it away and heal it where he couldn’t see. But I couldn’t let it die, when I could so easily help … and he was so sad for it. I wanted him to see that it was OK again…”

Lauren’s heart fluttered. Now she had two men in her life who cared as much for creatures as they did for people; who felt their pain and wanted to help. How could she blame Charlie for acting on the compassion that been part of what attracted her to him in the first place? On the very first evening they met, she had been charmed by the patience that Charlie had showed in redirecting tiny stray lizards back to the woods so they weren’t in danger of being trodden on by holidaymakers.

She reached to touch his shoulder. “It’s OK, Charlie, I understand. It’s just … well I’m realising I’m going to need to deal with some of this ‘different world’ stuff much sooner than I thought.” She looked between her two boys. “Would you both like a treat? I think we have some coconut ice cream in the freezer…”

“Yes please!” They answered in unison and Elliot bounded back across the lawn to pull Charlie up and show him where the freezer was.

“You’re to use a bowl and spoon to eat it though,” she warned him with raised eyebrows and he cuddled her into his side with a wink and a kiss to her cheek.

“I promise, love.”

Without telling Lauren, Charlie used a simple sticking charm on his wand the next time he was in the bathroom. It wouldn’t stop him from grabbing it from its holster if he really needed it, of course, but it would ensure he had to give it an extra tug and that, he hoped, would remind him to be careful. In Romania, he had hidden or disillusioned it, and he had managed to avoid using it in front of Lauren. Charlie wasn’t sure why it was harder to do that here but he had so many other things that he was trying to think about and deal with. Back in Romania, during the summer that he and Lauren had spent together, life had been simpler. It had just been the two of them amongst the trees and the mountains. 

Charlie, Lauren and Elliot ate their Saturday dinner outside as well. Lauren sent Charlie and Elliot to set the picnic table and to carry everything out before joining them with the chilli. Afterwards, they put Elliot to bed together and Charlie offered to read him a story while Lauren relaxed.

He returned to the living room to find Lauren on the sofa, having poured them both a glass of wine before directly addressing the question that had been on her mind all day.

“Charlie, I think we need to talk a bit about what happens next. Where do we go from here?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, lovely,” he said, wrapping his arm around her. “The simplest path that I can see is if I lean in and kiss you, and then we get naked and slide together like we’d never been apart, and make love and then make Elliot some sisters and brothers and then we’d all live happily ever after…” He leaned in and, when she didn’t move away, placed a brief kiss on her lips, causing her to smile. “But that’s not what you mean, is it?”

“Not exactly, though I can’t say it doesn’t sound tempting,” she cupped his cheek with her hand. “I mean logistically. We have some big decisions to make. Which world would Elliot and I live in? How would it work? Who would we spend time with?” 

“I do have a great family,” Charlie smiled. “They’ll drive you barmy, and you’d need to get used to being surrounded by magic and flying, but Elliot will see that anyway if he’s a wizard. You’ve already seen how welcoming they are, and they’re all yours if you’d like them.” He leaned in closer again, his eyes flashing with laughter as he issued the necessary warning. “There are hundreds of them, though…” 

Lauren laughed, running her fingers through her blonde curls. “I’m looking forward to meeting more of them tomorrow. Really,” she reassured him when he raised his eyebrows. “I’m better at social stuff than you; it’s not stressful for me. Not the meeting them bit, anyway.”

“Which bit is stressful?”

“Not knowing what to expect, I suppose. Having so many questions, about everything. Whether I need to pull Elliot out of his playgroup next week before he starts telling the other kids you mend worms with magic. And I know it’s still a few years away, but what would we do about Elliot and school?”

“That one’s easy. Magical children are usually home schooled until they’re eleven and then they go to Hogwarts.”

“The magical boarding school in Scotland which you get to on a magical red train with magical chocolate frogs in your tuck box. I’ve heard this bedtime story from Hermione!” Lauren rolled her eyes, pretending exasperation. 

“That’s the one, love.” He laughed loudly. “I’ll take you there, if you like. The Headmistress is a good friend. Very bright, so you’ll get on like a house on fire, and I’m sure she’ll be happy to answer any questions that I can’t. Between her and mum, they’ll have you sorted in no time.”

“I always liked the idea of home schooling,” she said. “The chance to not have one’s child taught to conform … that’s very appealing to someone like me. The question is more whether I could afford to leave work completely and do that full-time, especially as you’re abroad so much…”

“Well, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve made a decision,” Charlie said. “I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but I’m going to hand in my notice and come back to England.”

“You’re leaving Romania?”

Charlie nodded and took her hand. “Love, I’ve loved my work with dragons, but the last day or so, well some things put others into perspective.”

“Charlie, I can’t ask you to leave work you love…”

“You haven’t asked me to do anything, love. You didn’t even know I worked with dragons until, what, a few days ago?”

“Yeah, you just said animals; I thought you were some kind of park ranger,” she snorted.

He shifted to get more comfortable. “Look, we don’t need to make any absolute decisions now, but there are a few things you should know. I’ve sent an owl … a message asking to take some of the leave I have owed. I’m confident my boss will let me stay here for the next week or so. And when it’s time to go back, the first thing I’m going to do is tell him what’s happened and hand in my notice.”

“You’re sure?”

“Never been surer, love. I have a lot to catch up on, with both of you.” He stroked her hand again, and Lauren tried hard to resist leaning into him. “If you don’t want me to stay here, that’s OK. And I know you might need to work during the week, so maybe I could look after Elliot when you do that and then that solves the playgroup problem?”

“It’s the university summer break, Charlie. We all stay at home pretending to do research for three months, so I’m on leave til halfway through September. Playgroup just gives me a bit of a rest, but it would be lovely if you spent more time with Elliot anyway. I start back to work in September, but I only work a couple of days a week and I can do a lot of my work online now, so it’s very flexible.”

Charlie didn’t know what that meant, but decided to file it away and ask later rather than go off on a different tangent. “OK,” he continued, “I don’t want this to sound odd, but my line of work, well it pays well. And then comes with the added advantage of putting you somewhere so remote that you have no chance to spend any money. I can afford to take some time off and get to know Elliot. Make up for lost time. I’ve enough put away to support us for a couple of decades without any job at all, love. Well in my world, anyway; I don’t know what yours costs to live in.”

“I’m OK financially in mine too, Charlie. That’s why I only work part time. It’s the sad advantage of having parents who died young.” Charlie’s thoughts instantly went to Harry, and he wondered if he and Lauren would ever discuss that common ground. “We don’t need to worry about money between us, then. And going by Hermione’s ability to use a laptop with a solar charger,” Charlie didn’t know what that meant either, but he remembered her funny grey thing that she allegedly read books on and filed that question away for later as well, “well then I could carry on my work even if I lived in your world. Enough to live on, anyway.”

“See, so we have the means and the will and some time to think it all through … we can relax and figure it out in our own time.”

“Ohhhh.” The knowledge that Charlie would soon be back in England and able to parent with her made Lauren feel much more relaxed. She had been managing fine on her own – although that’s not to say there weren’t times when she would have been glad of a partner – but the added possibility of Elliot being magical had added a whole dimension of complexity that she wasn’t sure how she would cope with. 

IF he was magical, she reminded herself.

“I’d like to wait and see if Elliot’s definitely a wizard before I make any big decisions,” she said slowly, feeling relieved when Charlie nodded in agreement. “I know he probably is, but we don’t know for sure, do we?”

“No,” Charlie agreed. “We can check with Mum and Dad tomorrow, but I think the only definite sign is if one of us actually sees him doing accidental magic that can’t be explained by the actions of anyone else around at the time. And your experiences,” he waved towards the kitchen, where the marks were still on the wall, “well I suppose there’s still the chance they could have been made another way…” He trailed off, not really believing that himself, but if Lauren needed more time, then he would do whatever he needed to do to get her that.

“If he’s a wizard, well,” she sighed, more from tiredness than dismay, “I think we need to come into your world, and give him every chance to grow up well amongst other magical people. Though I’d like to make sure he has exposure to his non-magical heritage as well.”

“Of course.” Charlie touched her arm. “I want that for him too, and ‘Mione and Harry will be able to help there.”

“If he’s a wizard, I don’t want him to have to grow up hiding that from others,” Lauren continued. “Like it’s something to be ashamed of, that he can’t tell his friends about. I know from Fred that you all have to do that a bit when you were out, but not when he’s in his own home. That doesn’t feel right. I want him to grow up around other witches and wizards.”

Charlie kept quiet, letting her know with his eyes and his touch that he was listening but allowing her to process her thoughts and feelings out loud, as she always seemed to need to do.

“If he’s not a wizard himself, though, then I want us to discuss him growing up more in the non-magical world, as he would have done with me if you hadn’t come along, and not feel like he’s the odd one out in a big magical family.” Charlie winced a bit that she even thought in those terms, but it was better that he knew that than not. And her rationale made sense, even though it pained him a bit to think of what that outcome might do to their chance of being together.

When Lauren began yawning, Charlie suggested they call it a night. They had agreed to make an early start in the morning. Lauren wanted to drive to The Burrow, and they wanted to maximise their time with Molly and Arthur before the rest of the family arrived. “Where would you like to sleep?” she asked Charlie. “There are two options; the sofa, or my bed. Well, our bed; Elliot still turns up to join me most nights, even though he has his own bed now.”

Charlie smiled. He still had very fond memories of spending nights in Molly and Arthur’s large and colourful bed, mostly with Bill and Percy, but sometimes with their younger siblings too, especially in the days after Molly had given birth in it. He remembered vividly how they would all be made to play downstairs or in the garden while she was in labour. However, once each new baby – or babies, on one exciting occasion – had arrived and they were allowed back into the bedroom, they didn’t want to leave again. Molly always had several willing baby cuddlers and the growing family continually put Arthur’s transfiguration spells to the test as he needed to make the bed bigger every time they added a new family member. “I love a family bed,” he told Lauren.

“Well I’m very attached to my side,” she smiled, “so let’s hope you like the other one.”

“I’ll be very happy with any side of any bed as long as you’re in it.” He began to rise off the sofa and, that time, his smile was more suggestive. Lauren’s became more awkward.

“Charlie … I know I was being all flirty last night, but I think tonight needs to be a platonic thing. Not just because of Elliot … I really don’t want to be coping with processing any,” she paused, trying to find the right way to say what she wanted, “well … ‘morning after’ feelings. Not at the same time as meeting your folks.”

“Totally cool with me,” Charlie said, nodding. “We’ll have a platonic family sleepover and then we’ll get up early so that Elliot and I can make you breakfast in bed before you terrify me by driving me to The Burrow!”

Lauren reached for the hand that he offered, allowing him to pull her up. “I’m not that bad a driver. But it’ll make up for you all making me throw up when you apparated me here.” 

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Back in Diagon Alley, Fred slowed down his drinking when he realised that George was really going for it. He wondered for a moment whether he should be worried, but decided that George deserved to be able to go on a bender now and again. If it became a frequent occurrence, then he would worry. His brother was having a lovely time and seemed far more relaxed than he had done all day, as he knocked back firewhisky shots with Oliver, whose team wasn’t playing that weekend. When they left the pub, Fred half lifted George off the ground and apparated him to the flat, not wanting to undertake the long winding walk which would slow his return to the arms of his wife.

He would have crept to the bedroom if he could, but George was serenading him with muggle pop songs, so Hermione inevitably got up and came to see if he needed help. Together, they persuaded George out of his shoes and outer clothes and half pushed, half levitated him onto Fred’s side of the expanded bed, whereupon he declared his undying love for them both and then immediately began snoring. 

Once Hermione and Fred had brushed their teeth and placed a big glass of water and a hangover potion next to George, they climbed under the covers as well, Fred lay on his back and looked at his sleeping brother on his left and then at Hermione, on his right. “Do you think it’ll ever just be you and me again?” he whispered.

“Of course it will, silly. Everything has happened at once, and very quickly, but it won’t last forever.”

“I suppose.” Fred didn’t sound certain.

“To be honest, this is exactly what I wanted,” Hermione told him.

“To have my twin join us in our marriage bed?” He touched their bonding cord with his fingers, looking half amused and half shocked.

Hermione laughed softly. “No, to have our home become another Weasley family hub. This is what I never had. I’ll take sharing our bed with nephews and husbands-in-law for a few nights here and there … it’s a small price to pay for being surrounded by our family.”

Fred gave her a long kiss and then turned out the light, falling asleep almost immediately. Hermione took a few minutes to find a comfy position and finally snuggled herself into Fred’s side, sliding her hand over his body. She reached out towards where she thought George’s hand might be, wanting to give the younger twin the comfort of her touch as well. When her fingers reached his, however, she found that Fred was already gently holding his twin’s hand in his own. Hermione smiled, laid her hand over their entwined ones, and fell asleep looking forward to their family Sunday at The Burrow.


	31. Driving to The Burrow

Lauren wasn’t a bad driver. But Charlie Weasley didn’t even know the M5 motorway existed before today, so there had been no opportunity to prepare himself for the reality of being in the passenger seat of a small blue metal machine that was hurtling along it at seventy miles an hour. Amongst tens of other small metal machines of varying colour, some of which seemed to be zooming in and out of the different lanes and overtaking each other as if they were all looking for a big golden snitch flying along ahead of them. Too late, Charlie wished that he had found a way to get a broom and flown above the car, though he didn’t think he could have matched Lauren’s speed even on the firebolt that he had bought himself to whizz around the reserve on.

“Are we nearly there yet?” he asked for the third time, as they reached the outskirts of Bristol, five miles after they left Lauren’s cottage.

“Not allowed to keep asking,” Elliot informed him from his car seat in the back. “Or you won’t get car sweeties.”

“There are car sweeties?” 

Lauren laughed at the excitement in Charlie’s voice. “In the glove compartment. Yes, pull that handle. The front seat passenger is in charge of distribution, so that's you. I like the black and white stripey humbugs and the pink rhubarb and custard ones best, but you’ll have to unwrap me one and pop it in my mouth so I can keep my hands on the wheel, please, and if you make anyone sick from giving them too many then you have to clear it up.”

“Well that all seems straightforward,” Charlie grinned at his son in the rear view mirror as he unwrapped a humbug and gently placed it between Lauren’s lips. He lifted a packet of jelly sweets out as well and held them up. “Are these yours?” Elliot nodded, just as excited as his father. Charlie twisted in his seat, holding the packet so that the little boy could choose for himself. “OK then, as you’re the expert, which colour do you recommend I try first?”

The trialling and discussion of various jelly and hard sweets took them to the Taunton turn off, for which Lauren was immensely relieved. She was also a bit concerned about the volume of sugar that Charlie was gaily putting into their child, but decided to let it go on this occasion. He needed to learn the ropes for himself and, if Charlie ran out of steam to run around with his hyperactive son, she was confident that Fred and George would step in. She just hoped that Elliot would behave for his grandparents and not be too silly. But, she thought, with Charlie being one of seven, his parents had probably seen it all anyway.

Charlie was much calmer once they were driving on the less busy Devon roads, and Lauren noted that it had been a good idea to get him off the motorway, even if it took a bit longer through the Blackdown Hills. She had looked up the directions with Charlie’s help and written them on a post-it note that was stuck to the windscreen, and she knew that this road would take her all the way to the correct turn-off. Charlie was almost enjoying the ride now that they had slowed down, and he and Elliot passed the time by looking for and pointing out different kinds of animals and birds to each other. Lauren’s heart swelled. She hadn’t given much thought to how much Elliot would love having his dad around before Hermione had got in touch. She had a pragmatic streak and had realised when she was pregnant that there wasn’t any point spending energy wishing for something that might not even be possible. But now that Charlie was here, she realised just how much he could add to Elliot’s life. 

And maybe her own, if she let him. She had slept well with him in her bed. Charlie had needed to get up in the early hours in order to tend to Elena, who had arrived with a note from his boss confirming that he could take some time off. Charlie had chuckled – as quietly as he could, so as not to wake Lauren and Elliot – when he read his boss' note that it was ‘about bloody time he had a break’. 

When Charlie had come back to bed, he found that Elliot had somehow moved himself to lie lengthways across the width of the bed not occupied by Lauren; the top of his head nestled against his mum’s tummy and his limbs spread like the sails of a windmill. Charlie had stood there for a moment, watching them sleep and wondering what to do. It was a little early to get up, even for him, but he didn’t want to disturb either of them. His problem was solved when Lauren’s eyes slowly opened, sensing him there. She saw his dilemma, gave a soft smile and then moved her hips forward, scooping Elliot into a more diagonal position and making a space behind her. She lifted the quilt, indicating for Charlie to get in. 

“You’re sure?” he teased as he climbed under the quilt. “I thought you were attached to this being your side?!”

“Just this once...” 

Lauren had sensed that Charlie wasn’t sure how to arrange himself in the smaller space that he now had, and reached for his hand with her own, pulling his arm around her body in a gesture that clearly let him know that she was open to him spooning her. With a happy sigh, he wrapped his body around hers and whispered in her ear. “That was my reply from the reserve, love. I’ll be in England for at least the next week.”

“Mmmmm. Good.” Lauren had muttered sleepily. 

Charlie got a bit lost in his own thoughts on their drive to The Burrow too. He had already brought Lauren up to date on the rest of his night-time activities. Elena had declined a bit of leftover chilli from the fridge and Charlie had looked around helplessly, unable to find anything that he could feed to the little creature as a reward for her long journey. He realised that he would need to bring a few things to Lauren’s house if he would be spending more time there. Scratching Elena’s head in a soft apology, Charlie had reassured her that she would get a treat soon. They weren’t that far from Shell Cottage and it was already light, so Charlie decided to send her to Bill and Fleur, asking them to look after Elena for a few days, adding a few quick lines to bring them up-to-date. 

Lauren had slept even better in Charlie’s arms. She was surprised to be woken by Elliot telling his mum that breakfast was ready. He and Charlie had woken at around the same time and Charlie had got his son up and dressed without waking her. 

In the kitchen, Lauren found a cup of tea and a boiled egg and soldiers waiting for her. “I’ve not made a big breakfast, love,” Charlie said, as he bit into his own food. “Mum always cooks like she’s feeding an army, so it’s never a good idea to have a lot before you go there!”

Lauren nodded her thanks.

“I picked egg and soldiers! And I’m ready!” Elliot told her proudly. “Daddy helped!”

“That’s wonderful,” Lauren smiled at him. “Well then, I’ll just have a quick shower and grab my bag and then we can go.” She looked at Charlie. “Is there anything I need to bring? Should we take any food, or some wine?”

Charlie shook his head. “Mum won’t want that.”

“I don’t like going empty-handed,” she said, frowning. “I don’t know about your world, but I was brought up to take something for the host, even if it was small.” Her eyes lit up as a thought crossed her mind. “Flowers! There are some big daisies in bloom out in the garden. Why don’t you help Elliot pick a bunch for your mum while I shower? If you wrap them in some wet kitchen paper and then put foil around it,” she indicated the direction of both, “then they’ll stay fresh in the car.”

Personally, Charlie would have used a charm, but it was important, he knew, to respect and learn about muggle ways. And who knew, maybe some of them were better than magical means of doing things. He suspected that, once Hermione had set him up with one of these phone things, muggle communication might be quicker and more straightforward than using owls or the floo.

He was brought out of his reverie as they turned into an even narrower lane with high hedges which Charlie recognised as the one that led around the edge of their village. But Elliot had run out of patience with the fact that both of his parents were in their own worlds rather than his. 

“I like to talk,” he complained.

“Sorry, mate,” Charlie smiled back at him. “I got lost in my thoughts there for a moment. Let’s talk,” he said, turning to Lauren. “What would you like to chat about, love?” His face fell as he saw Lauren’s. She looked concerned; worried even. Checking the rear-view mirror to make sure that no other cars were behind her – which was quite unlikely at this hour on this road – she slowed the car right down, looking for somewhere to stop.

“I can’t do this,” she said. 

Charlie’s stomach dropped. Was it too soon? Had he pushed too hard for this meeting? Had it finally all got too much for her? “What’s wrong, love?” he spoke softly, reaching for the hand that gripped the steering wheel.

“This road; I don’t want to go down here. It feels very wrong. We need to go back.” She pulled her hand away, reversing the car into a gateway and turning it around in the road so that it pointed in the opposite direction.

Charlie was so surprised that he didn’t say anything for the whole time it took Lauren to drive back to the main road. But, with another sudden drop of his stomach, he realised what was going on.

“Love,” he said. “Can you do me a favour and pull into the next layby?”

“Alright,” Lauren told him, “I could do with a break while we decide what to do. I’m sorry, but that road felt horrible. Like something terrible would happen if I kept driving.”

Charlie nodded. “I know. I’ve realised why, and I need to send my dad a message.” When the car stopped, they both got out and went to stand by the hedge. Although Elliot remained in the car, safely buckled into his seat, Charlie whispered in Lauren’s ear, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t be overheard. “I need to cast a spell, like the horse Elliot saw, to contact my dad. Do you want me to walk further away so he won’t see?”

Lauren shook her head. “What difference is one more inexplicable story going to make?! The playgroup leaders are either going to think he’s a liar or that I’ve got him on E numbers!”

Charlie wasn’t sure if she was stressed, cross or both, and he had no idea what E-numbers were, but he leaned in and gave her a side hug. Then he raised his wand, careful to check that no other cars were coming, looked at Elliot in the back seat to help with his happy thought and cast, “expecto patronum!”

A small silvery dragon shimmered into view, and both Lauren and Elliot gasped.

“Tell Arthur Weasley: we need you to take the muggle repelling wards down. We’re only a few minutes away, and they’re affecting Lauren. And put the kettle on, please. She’s going to need tea and chocolate.”

While they waited for a reply – because, as he explained, there was no point moving until they knew his dad had sorted things – Charlie quietly explained the situation to Lauren. “It’s so we can use magic at home without worrying about being seen, and also to protect non-magical people.”

She nodded. She would need to think about this later. How could she be a regular visitor to his parents’ home if they used their magic to keep non-magical people away? But at least she felt calmer now that she was further away from the turn-off, and she was ready to give it another try, as long as she didn’t have to encounter that feeling again.

As if he could read her mind, Charlie continued. “Bill and Fleur will be able to sort it properly later; it won’t happen again. They are both brilliant with this stuff and there are ways of keying individual people into the wards. I’m sure they can do something so that you feel very welcome but that still keeps others out.”

“Ooooooh, animal!” Elliot hadn’t yet encountered weasels, else he would surely have announced the species of his grandfather’s patronus in the same way that he had greeted Ginny’s, but Charlie and Lauren weren’t in any doubt about what his shout signified.

“I am SO sorry,” said the weasel. “Lauren, please forgive us. We thought we had taken them all down. It’s definitely all clear now, and Molly is laying out a pot of tea and the largest chocolate cake in the west country.”

“Alright mate,” said Charlie to Elliot. “Off we go again,” and they got back into the car and headed back towards The Burrow. This time, Lauren didn’t get the unpleasant sensation, for which she was very grateful. Instead, she felt a welcoming warmth when she reached the point at which she had previously turned back. Charlie watched her face carefully as they drove the final mile. He was excited to share his home and family but also nervous at whether the bringing together of his two very different worlds would go well. “Remember I told you how weird it looks?” Charlie reminded Lauren, but she still gasped with delight and disbelief when they turned into the driveway and she finally saw Charlie’s childhood home in full relief.

“Oh God, it’s like something out of a storybook!”

“You like it?” he grinned.

“I love it!” The moment she stopped the car next to the battered blue Ford Anglia which the twins had somehow managed to rescue from the forbidden forest a few weeks prior, Lauren released her seatbelt, opened the car door and jumped out. The thrill of seeing the tall, rickety, rustic house cleared away her residual concern from the incident with the wards and Molly and Arthur’s first sight of their first grandchild’s mother was of a small, round, brightly-coloured, happy looking woman who was slowly turning around with a wide, delighted smile on her face at the sight of their home and garden. 

Warmed beyond belief at her reaction to what they considered a humble home, they walked towards her slowly, not wanting to break the spell that she seemed to be under. “I feel like I’m in a fairytale!” she told them, unabashed and holding her hands to her cheeks in delight and disbelief.

Unable to hold back, Molly stepped forward and pulled Lauren into a long hug, introducing herself as she did. When it came to his turn, Arthur tried to be more reserved, but this time it was Lauren who initiated the hug, wanting to connect with the man who had raised her own son’s father. Then Molly reclaimed her again. All a bit overwhelmed, they had to say in gestures and eye contact what they didn’t yet quite have words to express. 

Lauren was surprised to find herself feeling teary at the idea of having parents in her life again, a feeling exacerbated by the soothing noises that Molly was making as she rubbed the young woman’s back. Charlie had told them yesterday that Lauren was an orphan and, having given Harry all the motherly love and care that Lily hadn’t lived long enough to give him herself, Molly was always happy to adopt another motherless child, no matter their age or stage of life.

Meanwhile, Charlie was fiddling with Elliot’s car seat and struggling to get it opened so he could release the child from its confines. In the end, he simply pointed his wand at the buckle and murmured a charm, with a “shhhh” to Elliot, who giggled in delight to see his dad’s unauthorised use of magic. He was already picking up the fact that his dad could do marvellous things with his stick that his mum wasn’t always so sure about. Elliot desperately hoped that, when he was as big as his dad, he could have a stick too. He would very much like to be able to mend worms whenever he wanted.

Scooping his son into his arms, Charlie protected Elliot’s head with one hand so as not to bang it on the door and then stood the little boy on the ground so he could walk with Charlie to meet his grandparents. Somewhat shyly, Elliot reached for Charlie’s hand and pulled him to a stop.

Charlie squatted on the ground.

“Mummy!” Elliot requested, holding his arms out in a request for Lauren to lift him. Lauren gave Molly one final squeeze and then turned and walked back a few steps, scooping Elliot up and pressing him to her body. 

“It’s OK, lovely. It’s OK to feel shy.” Elliot’s tummy felt a bit funny and he pressed his face to Lauren’s neck; not completely hiding, but taking his time to assess Molly and Arthur from the safety of his mother’s arms. 

Lauren shot an apologetic look at Molly, who immediately reassured her. “Everything’s fine, and there’s no rush.” Percy had been very similar as a child; sometimes needing time to get used to people before he committed himself. “Arthur and I will go inside and bring out the tea and cake. It’s promising to be a lovely day so we’ve set up out here. Make yourselves at home, do.” She waved her hand towards a long wooden table on the grass which had benches all around it. 

Once back in the kitchen, Molly stuck her head in the floo, calling out to anyone at the flat above the shop. When a pyjama-clad Fred wandered into the living room, she addressed him briefly. “Please, pop into the Alley and get some chocolates before you come over. This is more stressful for Lauren than we thought, and maybe it’ll help.” She went to pull away and then had another thought. “And a calming potion, if you have any. I don’t know if she’ll want it, but we can offer. I’ve used all mine up and I need to brew more.”

Fred reassured his mum that they would bring both, and asked how things were going. “Great,” said Molly. “It’s just a lot for everyone to take in. But we’ll get there.” As she withdraw her head from the fireplace, Fred stood back up. Hermione would be delighted to hear that.

Back in the garden of The Burrow, Charlie was looking at Lauren, who reassured him in turn. “We’re good,” she nodded, watching Charlie watch his little boy. It was still hard to believe that they had only met each other a couple of days ago. It already felt like much longer. “I think maybe Elliot’s feeling a bit shy,” she continued. “It doesn’t happen often, does it lovely?” She nuzzled Elliot’s head with her face. “But better now than later.”

“Shall we?” Charlie indicated the bench and tables and Lauren nodded. 

“That’s a great idea. We can all sit and have a cuddle and maybe Elliot will feel like saying hello in a few minutes.” Charlie looked relieved as Lauren turned to speak directly to Elliot. He loved the way she spoke to him so clearly and as if he was an adult. No wonder his own speech was so advanced. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, lovely. Those people are your Daddy’s Mummy and Daddy.” She stroked the soft red hair that was the exact same colour as his dad’s. “Remember we talked yesterday about meeting lots more people? Those people are Fred and George’s Mummy and Daddy too!” 

“How can they be everyone’s Mummy and Daddy?” Elliot’s curiosity was piqued. 

“Well they’re not everyone’s Mummy and Daddy,” she explained, starting to walk slowly towards the garden, “but they had lots of children so they are quite a few people’s Mummy and Daddy.”

“And the horse?” Lauren was confused for a moment and looked around, assuming that Elliot had spotted a horse somewhere in the grounds of The Burrow until Charlie stepped in.

“Yes, they are Ginny’s Mummy and Daddy too,” he said, leading them to the nearest bench and putting his strong arm around Lauren’s waist to keep her steady while she stepped over the bench with one leg, straddling it before sitting down. Elliot was still clinging to her, so she was grateful for the assistance. “Ginny doesn’t look like her horse though,” Charlie continued explaining as he sat down beside them. “She has hair like us too, but longer. She’ll be here today and you can meet her as well, if you like.” He raised his eyebrows at Lauren, hoping for a good conversation when Elliot met Ginny after encountering her patronus the previous morning. 

But Elliot was still figuring out the relationships in his head. “Mummy doesn’t have a Mummy and Daddy,” Elliot told Charlie, and the older wizard reached out to stroke Lauren’s arm.

“I know, mate,” he said, desperately hoping that Lauren wouldn’t be too upset by this turn of conversation. Tears sprang to Lauren’s eyes and she pulled a brightly coloured hanky from her pocket to dab at them. This was all a bit overwhelming and emotional for her as well, actually. Not just the reminder of her own lack of family, but the wards and the enormity of being in this new world. Charlie kept his attention on Elliot, hoping to give Lauren space to compose herself. “That’s why we all need to love her even harder.” 

Elliot nodded, looking serious, as Lauren felt fresh tears flow from her eyes. She shook her head at Charlie, trying her best to smile. This was not how she had wanted her meeting with Molly and Arthur to begin. “Don’t be nice to me,” she said, with a warning tone, and Charlie laughed, leaning forward to whisper in his son’s ear. 

“Do you know what ticklish means?” he asked the little boy.

Elliot’s face lit up. “Tickles are when mummy makes me laugh with her fingers,” he told Charlie.

“Have you ever tried tickling your mum?” Elliot shook his head. “Shall we try now?” Charlie asked, with a sly and somewhat suggestive glance at Lauren. The redheaded wizard knew full well that Lauren was very ticklish, especially around her ribs. He had learned that during the long, lazy nights that they had spent together, and it had both delighted him and caused him to need to remember that he needed to stroke that part of her body a little more firmly when they made love, else she would collapse in giggles, bringing other kinds of pleasure to a temporary pause. 

Grinning, Charlie reached out his hand towards Lauren, pointing to the side of her waist. Elliot immediately understood and began to move his little hands to tease his mum’s sides.

It had the desired effect. Lauren began to laugh and wriggle, begging the two of them to stop. Not that Charlie was doing much with his own hand; he was mostly encouraging Elliot, though his large fingers might have rested themselves on her back. Just to make sure she didn’t fall off the bench, of course. Lauren’s tears had turned to happy ones and the whole scene made Molly, who was watching from the kitchen window, turn to Arthur with a few tears of their own.

“She’s lovely,” Molly sighed to herself. “I like her. The poor thing though; she’s had so much to deal with in her life already.” She shook her head, wondering how she could best help this woman that her son was bringing into their lives. Turning back to watch the little family again, she smiled when she noticed Lauren subconsciously leaning into Charlie’s touch. “Do you know, Arthur?” she addressed her husband, who immediately moved to her side to look out of the window with her. “I think they’re going to be OK. Let’s give her a minute, and then we’ll go back out and see if our grandson is ready to say hello…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the happy reviews. I've had some less-than-lovely reviews elsewhere and I really appreciate it when people tell me that they're enjoying my work. Even a quick line helps spur me on to keep going :-) And if you like my writing and haven't yet found it, I have a newish Charlie/Hermione fic in progress, called Nightlights.


	32. Grandparents and garden gnomes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I want to start by saying a HUGE thank you to everyone who has commented on this story, especially after I mentioned last time that I was getting grief from elsewhere about where this story was headed. As an author, it means so much to know that people are enjoying this enough to add a comment. I have this week written a Fremione one-shot (The Brother Code) and I'm going to upload it once I have posted this. Consider it a thank you gift for all the positive feedback, which really does help spur me on :-)

After a few minutes of cuddling his mummy while listening to his daddy pointing out and softly describing the different parts of the house and garden from their seat at the picnic table, Elliot had loosened his grip on Lauren. He turned himself around to face Charlie, resting his back against Lauren and his feet on the bench between his parents, wanting to see where Charlie was pointing. 

Charlie hoped that this was a sign of his shyness dissipating a bit. He was proven correct when, upon seeing Molly emerge from the house levitating a large tray containing everything they needed for a second breakfast of tea and cake, Elliot scrambled down from the bench, ran towards his grandmother and gave an excited shout. 

“YOU have a stick as well!” Elliot exclaimed, pointing to Molly’s wand. Molly smiled. He might have responded in a Percy-like way straight out of the car, but his volume level in that moment reminded her of the young Fred, who had been the loudest and most extraverted of her own children. “Daddy has a stick, and Fred and Miney.” Elliot tipped his head and thought carefully. He didn’t know if NoFred had a stick, but he would ask. “Can I have a stick?”

“Well,” said Arthur, right behind his wife. “That’s a very good question. I’m not sure right now, but that’s something we’ll have to talk about.” He smiled broadly at the little boy, and Elliot grinned back. He liked this funny-looking smiley man.

Molly smiled at Elliot too, but she felt that the young woman sitting at the table needed her attention more than he did. She walked around the bench and slipped her arm around Lauren’s waist. “Chocolate cake. It’ll help,” she promised, cutting a large slice, putting it on a plate and handing Lauren a fork. “With the magic and the overwhelm,” she continued. “Don’t wait … really,” she urged, and Lauren obediently dug into the gooey treat, murmuring a thank you to Molly as the Charlie’s mum fussed, petted and poured her a cup of tea. Lauren gave a groan of pleasure, not just at the exquisite taste but at the joy of feeling more normal again after her experience with the wards and the emotional experience of meeting Molly and Arthur.

Arthur had crouched down and was letting Elliot see his wand. “Is this OK?” he asked Lauren after a moment, and Lauren nodded.

“He’s completely fascinated by them,” she told Arthur. “Charlie healed an injured worm in front of him yesterday evening and now his curiosity knows no bounds!”

Molly gave Charlie a sharp look. As a mother, she could see the implications of that even if her son hadn’t thought it through at the time. She turned back to Lauren, choosing her words carefully. “And are you alright with that, lovely? It must all be a bit new and unusual to you…”

Lauren nodded, appreciating Molly’s consideration. “It’s very new. And yes,” she gave a short laugh, “unusual is a good word for it. I only met Hermione a few days ago, and I’m still adjusting.” She looked into Molly’s eyes, confident that Charlie’s mum was as direct as she was herself. “It’s what happens as a result that worries me more.”

Molly sat down on the opposite side of the table, reaching out to pat Lauren’s hand. “You can talk to me anytime, you know?”

Lauren nodded. “I will. I have lots of questions.” She flashed her eyes at Elliot and Molly immediately understood that she was concerned about being overheard. “Maybe in a bit.” Then she remembered something. “Elliot…” Lauren spoke softly, and Elliot rushed to her side. Lauren whispered into his ear and the little boy immediately nodded and ran to the car, whose back door was still open. Climbing inside, he retrieved the bunch of daisies and carefully carried them back to the table. Reaching Molly, he held them out in his hands.

“Me and Daddy pick these for you,” he said.

“Why thank you, lovely,” Molly said. Arthur leaned forward excitedly. He had spotted that they were in something silver that he hadn’t encountered before and was keen to examine it.

Elliot tipped his head to one side. “Mummy calls me lovely too,” he told Molly.

Molly smiled, trying to curb Arthur’s enthusiasm by handing him the flowers to examine. He immediately began to pick at the foil. “Well I think you are lovely, Elliot. I’m very happy to meet you. Would you like to sit with us and have some cake and juice?” She held out her hand and he raised his little arms, allowing her to lift him onto the bench to sit between her and Arthur. 

“Thank you,” he said politely. And without any formal introduction having taken place, Elliot simply accepted his grandparents into his life. Over cake, tea and Elliot’s first taste of pumpkin juice, he and they began to make their way into each other’s hearts. After he had eaten half of his cake and listened to Lauren patiently explaining the composition and function of tinfoil and kitchen paper to his grandfather, Elliot put down the tiny fork that Molly had brought out for him to use. There was one thing he needed to clear up. “What’s your names?” He patted Arthur, who smiled widely.

“Well,” Molly said, patting Elliot in turn. “As you’re our first grandchild, it’s only fair that you should help to decide what everyone will call us. Arthur? Any suggestions?” She nudged her husband, indicating that he should put the flowers down. Quietly, he moved a glass out of sight underneath the table and enlarged it. He caught his son’s eye and Charlie surreptitiously reached down and filled it with water from his wand. Lauren smiled to herself and then laughed softly as she caught Molly’s eye. The two of them were about as subtle as a couple of drunken rugby players thinking that they were whispering to each other on their way home from the pub.

“I called both my grandads ‘grandad’,” Arthur told Lauren when his attention returned to the rest of the group. He turned his gaze to Elliot. “And so did your daddy. I’d like that. So my name’s Grandad. Or Grandad Arthur if you like.”

Elliot nodded, a serious look on his face.

Arthur looked at Lauren. “Did you know your grandparents?”

“I knew my mum’s parents,” she said. “Although they’re gone now. I never met my dad’s mum and dad though.”

“What did you call them?” Charlie asked. 

“Nanny and grandad,” she replied with a smile.

“I quite like Nanny,” Molly said slowly, considering the sound of the word. “It’s quite friendly, but Gran or Granny are nice too. What do you think, Elliot? Do you want to call me Nanny or Granny or Gran or something else?”

At first Elliot looked a bit confused, and then a look of wonder crossed his face. “Are you my Nanna?” he asked Molly. “Do you make cake?” He pointed to the remaining cake before turning to Lauren and repeated the question. “Did you get me a Nanna?”

It took Lauren a few seconds, and then her face broke into a huge smile. “Oh God,” she said, biting her lip. “I didn’t even think…” Her eyes welled up again, although she didn’t look unhappy.

“What is it, love?” Charlie asked, a bit concerned.

“It’s not bad,” Lauren said. “It’s rather sweet. Elliot has a book that he loves me to read to him, about a boy called Edward. Don’t you, lovely?” Elliot smiled and nodded vigorously in response. “Well, Edward’s grandmother is called Nanna and in the story they bake cakes together. And Elliot has always wanted a Nanna to bake with, which is how he knows about my parents because I had to tell him that wasn’t, well…” she broke off, seeing the sympathetic faces and knowing she didn’t need to finish that sentence. 

“Yes Elliot,” said Molly, turning to her grandson. “I’m your Nanna, and I can’t wait to start baking with you. You just ask Mummy to let me know when you’re free and we’ll make her whatever is her favourite cake. And a lemon drizzle one too, because that’s your daddy’s favourite.” She held out her arms and Elliot climbed up into her lap, just as Edward in his book did with his own Nanna. 

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Back at the flat above Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Hermione Granger-Weasley was taking a long bath while Fred nipped to the shops and George continued to snooze his way through the morning. She was feeling really contented to have some time to think; to catch up with herself. Last night had given her time to tidy her sewing basket, potter about the flat and gather a few things into a box that she wanted to take down to the shop on Monday morning. For that was the day she had said she would start in her new role, and she was looking forward to it immensely. 

She picked up her wand to notch the temperature of the water up a degree or two, and began to make a mental list. Her box was ready, she had clean robes that would tide her over until her work outfits arrived and she had leftover chicken and a few salads for her lunches for the next couple of days. Hermione was well aware that Fred and George would gladly buy and collect her lunch from Diagon Alley each day, but she didn’t always feel great after eating the large sandwiches that they seemed to need to fuel their antics, and the wizarding pub that they preferred tended more towards pie and chips than salad. She preferred something a bit lighter, especially as she was going to be based more at her desk. Not that she was planning to lunch at her desk; she would come upstairs and eat in the flat. That would give her a break from the noise, which was more than she thought she could take all day.

Having established that she was all set for Monday morning, Hermione slid further under the water, entering another level of relaxation as she wet her long curly hair. They would all apparate to The Burrow once George was awake, she imagined, although as she slid back up again she wondered whether he had made a plan with Angie. Before she could even finish the thought, however, she heard George’s voice outside the bathroom door.

“Yeah, she’s coming with us. Can I come in? Desperate for the loo! I’ll use the charm…”

“Alright, give me two secs,” Hermione sat up, reaching for her wand to close the curtains around the enormous bath. “OK!” She and George had come to an agreement which allowed him to still use the loo or shower when she was taking one of her super-long scented baths. She would conjure curtains around the entire bath, giving herself privacy, and he would use a sensory-blocking charm which they developed together. It prevented her – and anyone else in the vicinity – from having any awareness of what he was doing. They could have a conversation and, as long as she didn’t think about it too much, it was actually quite nice to chat with him from the bath in the same way she did with Fred. She had insisted that George check with Angie though, to make sure the older witch didn’t have a problem with it, and Angie had laughed so loudly for so long that Hermione had almost been offended. 

“I’m totally fine with it on one condition,” she told Hermione. “When you’ve created that sensory deprivation charm, you make sure he uses it every time he uses the loo, not just when you’re there!”

Hermione had laughed quite loudly in return and then become a bit more serious as she wondered whether she could turn the charm into a portable product for the store. Gods, she had realised; she was starting to think like them now!

“How do you think it’s going?” George’s voice pulled her out of her daydream. “At The Burrow, I mean?”

Hermione sighed and considered her answer. “Lauren’s very open-minded and chatty. She’ll not be as fazed by it as many people would. And her work means she’ll cope with the cultural differences probably better than most. But it’s still a huge thing to meet your in-laws, let alone under these circumstances and when you’ve only just found out about the magical world. So who knows?” George just gave a quiet hum, so she continued. “I just hope your mum is OK with her. I hope Lauren’s situation triggers your mum’s desire to be maternal towards her rather than protective towards Charlie…”

“Is that my wife you’re in there with?” 

“Yes it is,” George smiled. “I’m just about to jump in the bath with her; you alright with that?”

The door opened and Hermione laughed at the ensuing conversation. Fred complained about George being sat on the loo and George began his retaliation by pointing out that he was using the sensory deprivation charm. Halfway through his defence, however, George went on the offensive about Fred’s lack of decorum and modesty, so Hermione wasn’t at all surprised when the bath curtain was moved slightly – at the other end from where George was sitting – and her naked husband came into view. Not bothering to hide her admiration of his body, Hermione sat up and wriggled forward so that Fred could slide in behind her, his long arms and legs wrapping around her own. She rested her head back against his shoulder as he slipped his body into the hot water with a long sensual groan.

“Bloody hell!” George laughed from the loo. “You make it sound so sexy and all you’ve done is get into the water!”

“Well hurry up and bugger off then!” Fred laughed. “Mum sent me off to get chocolate for Lauren first thing, so I didn’t get to have a shower yet! And you do know what day it is, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” George sounded indignant. “It’s three weeks to the day since I promised to honour and obey my lovely wife-in-law.” Hermione giggled as Fred slid his arm around her waist.

“Will you be OK with us slipping off and closing the bond for half an hour later, so I can show her how much we both love her?”

George snorted. “Only half an hour? You disappoint me, Fredster! But yes, I think I can allow that.”

“Thanks, mate.” Fred spoke softly. He knew George needed him, but he was less worried today given that his twin would have Angie with him and be surrounded by their family.

“Alright, lovebirds, I’m done on here.” There was a dim sound of the toilet flushing. Hermione shook her head and made a mental note to re-evaluate that part of the charm. “But Angie’ll be here soon so I’m jumping in the shower now. Come out at your own risk, ‘Mione. And Freddie, don’t you dare do anything to my wife-in-law that’ll put water all over the floor!”

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Molly had made fairly short work of dispatching Charlie, Arthur and Elliot to do helpful things with food so that she could talk to Lauren. Having asked Charlie to grab her bag from the car and shut the door, Lauren had been fascinated – and also slightly disturbed – to see the strapping wizard give a small shout upon seeing a creature near the car door. He then lifted the creature above his head and swung it around a few times before flinging it high across the yard and into the next door field. He shut the car door and then went on his way as if nothing unusual had happened.

Lauren turned to Molly, her mouth open. She was shocked to see Charlie behaving this way. He had never shown anything but kindness to animals and, in fact, he often went way beyond what others would do to help a creature in need.

“It wasn’t an animal, it was a garden gnome,” Molly told her, realising exactly why Lauren looked so horrified. She had raised the animal lover, after all. “They’re nasty little pests. It would have been all through your car and into any food that you had. He didn’t hurt it; the swinging just makes it dizzy and stops it from coming back too soon.”

Lauren lifted the fresh cup of tea to her mouth and took a sip. “It’s like a whole different world, Mrs Weasley.”

“Oh please,” said Molly, putting her own mug down. “I don’t mind what you’d like to call me; Molly or Mum if you like, as Hermione does, but not Mrs Weasley. I hope we’ll become a lot closer than that, so let’s start as we mean to go on. Unless,” she smiled mischievously, remembering something Charlie had told her when they had finally sat and had a calm heart-to-heart about his situation, “you’d like me to call you Dr Bennett?”

Lauren laughed. “I’d love to have another mum, after the last few years of not having one, but it feels a bit unfair. What if Charlie and I don’t end up together?”

Molly tipped her head to one side. “Sweetheart!” she admonished gently. “I promise you there’s plenty of room in my heart and my family for the mother of my grandson to become my honorary daughter whatever happens between you and Charlie!”

“Mum,” Lauren tried. “I really like that.”

“Good,” said Molly. “Now, tell me what’s going on for you, and ask me anything you like...”

Over the next half hour, they covered accidental magic, the question of whether Elliot was a wizard or not, home schooling and several other topics. Molly quickly realised that Lauren was very bright and a very fast learner and she soon made connections between different pieces of information.

“You’re not really in much doubt about him being a wizard, are you?” Lauren asked, as the two women watched Arthur helping Elliot to carry a packet of sausages to the barbeque area.

“It’s never certain,” said Molly, sighing quietly, “until one us sees him doing accidental magic. Which he’s at the right sort of age to start doing. We’ll tell everyone to watch out for it, as it can happen anytime. What usually happens is that they have a burst of emotion that they don’t know how to deal with. Where non-magical children have tantrums where they scream and shout, magical children can instead use their magic to release their pent-up energy and emotion.”

A look of wonder crossed Lauren’s face. “Elliot,” she said, looking over at her son, “rarely has tantrums. He easily gets over-excited and needs help to calm himself down, and he has moments when he gets cross or impatient because things don’t go his way, but he’s really even-tempered. Does that tell you anything?”

Molly gave a small laugh. “It tells me he’s Charlie Weasley’s son! Even though he has his moments,” she thought back to the previous day, when Charlie strode off, “he was probably the most easy-going of all seven. He was the cuddliest, most even-tempered baby you could imagine,” she smiled at the woman who her son had fallen for, not surprised that Charlie had chosen a colourful, chatty, clever woman to balance him out, “and he only got mad when he thought someone was hurting someone he loved. Or a creature.” She rolled her eyes. “Merlin forbid he should see anyone hurting a creature.”

Lauren smiled. “Yeah, that was one of the things that drew me to him. He was so kind to the lizards that were crossing the path!”

“That sounds about right. Charlie’s first accidental magic, well the first that Arthur or I saw, was when he saw a garden gnome about to kick a rabbit. That’s one reason he dislikes them so much. He had seen his dad throwing gnomes, though Arthur had made him and Bill promise not to go near them. They bite, by the way, so be careful.” Lauren shuddered and made a mental note to stay away from the ugly little creatures as Molly continued. “If you see one, it’s best to grab or call Arthur or one of the boys; they have longer arms, and it’s safer for them. Ginny and Hermione don’t like it, but I think this is one task that I’m happy to divide along gender lines.” Molly laughed, pleased with the new jargon that she had picked up from Hermione, and then she leaned in closer. “Also, according to Luna and Hermione, who didn’t know I overheard them, there are worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon than watching a load of shirtless Weasley men de-gnoming the garden.”

Both women laughed, and Lauren felt herself slip into another level of relaxation. It was clear to her that she and Molly had grown up in very different environments but, she thought, if they could find common ground in their love of family, that would be a great basis for a relationship.

Molly was still chattering, delighted to have met someone who was so keen to hear her stories. “We made Charlie a separate carrot garden for rabbits when he was a toddler. We wanted them out of our vegetable patch, of course, so we magically fenced that off, but Charlie loved them so much that we made them a patch of their own which he loved to sit in. Well, Charlie saw a gnome approaching a baby bunny one day. He realised what it was about to do and the next thing we knew the gnome was flying through the air in the opposite direction, squealing. He had somehow managed to use his magic to move it without touching it, because the first thing he said when we went running over was that he didn’t break daddy’s rule.”

Lauren laughed again. “I don’t suppose I should be surprised.” She was aware, although she didn’t mention it to Molly, that a soft feeling arose in her tummy when she heard Charlie’s mum speak of him as a child. Had she had the time to analyse it, Lauren might have wondered at her developing emotions. But so much was happening that she only really had the time to register that she harboured a growing desire to spend more time alone with Charlie. Whether that was her hormones or something more, she didn’t know. But she didn’t need to express any of this for Molly, ever the experienced mother, to read the look on her face and to feel more reassured that her son might get his happy ending.

Molly smiled at Lauren. “But to answer your original question, I’d be amazed if Elliot wasn’t a wizard.” Molly sipped her tea, allowing Lauren time to take that in. “Our family have magic on both sides.” Then she sighed. “I don’t like to use the term, but you’ll hear it at some point so it might as well be me that explains it. We Weasleys are said to be pureblood wizards. Elliot, if he is magical, will be a half-blood, as he has one magical parent and one non-magical parent. Harry. Penelope and Angelina are half-bloods; you’ll meet them later. And then some witches and wizards, like Hermione, are known as muggle-borns. Neither of her parents have magic that they can use, although there’s clearly something in their lineage for them to have passed it on to her.”

“Like in their DNA?” Lauren asked.

“I don’t know what that is, sweetheart, though Hermione mentioned it once when she was telling the twins off. She was about fifteen and I already suspected she liked Fred and she said to George – not that she knew I could hear, mind – ‘just because you share DNA with him doesn’t give you the right to torment me the way he does’.” Molly looked wistful, remembering the moment when she first saw something between the pair who had now begun to make a life together. “I was never quite sure what she meant by that, and don’t think George was either, but we both realised there was something there. I wasn’t at all surprised when the two of them got together last month.”

“Last month?” Lauren looked at Molly in amazement. She knew Hermione and Fred hadn’t been long married, but surely they had dated for a while before making that huge commitment to each other?

Molly nodded. “Long story. And just the latest chapter in an even longer one. You’ll no doubt get bits from everyone else, but I think perhaps someone should make sure you have the whole story. Other than Charlie. You and he deserve to be able to focus on yourselves and Elliot, and the everyday things. Maybe you’d like to start coming round for a few hours here and there whenever you have the time, and I’ll tell you all about it over tea and cake?” 

“That would be great,” Lauren sighed, looking over at her son and his father and grandfather again. “It looks increasingly like I might have to learn how to live in your world instead of mine, and sooner rather than later. I’ll gladly take all the help I’m offered.”


	33. Women's lives...

Hermione, Fred, George and Angelina apparated into The Burrow's garden next, and Lauren noticed that Elliot immediately pulled away from Charlie to go and greet the twins. 

“Fred! NoFred!” he shouted gleefully, pelting towards them at full speed.

The two men knelt down side by side with their arms out, and Elliot ran into them, his own arms wide. 

“Hello mate,” they said, pretty much in unison, and Elliot took one of their hands in each of his. 

“I have a Nanna and Gandad,” he told them proudly, pointing out Molly and Arthur.

“That’s brilliant,” George said, sharing a small smile with Fred when they heard Elliot’s mispronunciation. Elliot nodded in agreement. “Would you like an auntie?” George asked, as Hermione crouched down so that she could give the little boy a kiss on his cheek, which made him giggle.

“Mummy says Miney’s an auntie. AuntieMiney.” He spoke proudly, running the words together into one and liking the way they sounded.

“Hello Elliot, I’ll chat to you in a bit,” said Hermione, stroking his hair before she stood back up and began to walk towards Lauren and Molly.

“Well you can have a few aunties, you know, and we’ve brought you another one. This is Auntie Angie,” Fred said, bringing Angelina into the conversation.

Angelina knelt on the grass in front of Elliot and held out her hand to shake Elliot’s. He giggled again and then moved her fingers with his own so he could give her a ‘high five’ as he had seen Fred and George do to each other. Angelina laughed, and Elliot was pleased.

“I’m going to let you chat to George and Auntie Angie,” Fred told his nephew, ruffling his red hair. “I need to give something to your mum.”

While Elliot turned to George, remembering that he wanted to ask whether he had a wand, Fred sprinted to catch up with Hermione, who had already reached Lauren and Molly at the picnic table. “We thought we’d get here in good time,” she was telling them as she hugged Molly in greeting before turning to Lauren. “Thought it might be helpful to have a few more faces that you know.”

“Indeed,” Fred had slipped a bag of chocolate truffles into Lauren’s hand while Molly was cuddling Hermione. “Pressie for you,” he said, in a quieter voice than normal. “These will help to offset the effects of magic. Any kind of chocolate will work,” he explained. “Don’t share them around with us greedy buggers; keep them with you and have one anytime it gets a bit much.” She squeezed his hand with a whisper of thanks. “I made sure they’ll keep cool,” he continued, “so don’t worry about them melting in the heat or anything. And,” he showed her a small brown bottle in the palm of his other hand, “mum asked me to bring this as well. Hermione said to tell you it’s like magical rescue remedy, if you know what that is?” 

Lauren nodded. “I do.”

Fred leaned forward and stood it on the table in front of her. Lauren looked at it and then slipped it into the pocket of her dress. “Well it’s there if you need it, love,” he continued. “Few drops under your tongue, as often as you want. And if there’s anything that any of us can do, just say.”

“You are very kind, Fred.”

He grinned. “That’s the second time you’ve said that this week, and you promised to tell my mum, remember?”

“I do!” she said, laughing, and immediately turned towards Molly to do just that. Fred stared, slightly amazed that he had met a woman who was as extraverted, direct, straightforward and outspoken as he was, and grinned as Lauren told Molly how wonderful Fred had been at helping her to adjust to the wizarding world during the previous couple of days. 

Molly laughed, rolling her eyes at Lauren’s words. “OK,” she said to her son, who was grinning madly as he watched Hermione climb over the bench to sit on the other side of Lauren. “Extra cake for Fred!”

Fred waved his arms around a bit in glee, using his wand as a pretend beater’s bat in a watered-down version of the happy dance that he and George used to do from their broomsticks when Gryffindor scored, before looking around to see where Ange and George were so that he could join them.

“Did he bring you plenty of chocolate?” Molly asked Lauren, who nodded.

“Yes, though he said I shouldn’t share it,” she laughed. “Not that I’ll be tempted to share it with Charlie and Elliot,” she laughed, looking in the direction of her son, who was up again and running around the garden playing some kind of chasing game with George. Fred immediately saluted the three women, saying that he would be back for his cake soon, and headed over to join in. “They’re both already horribly full of sugar,” Lauren confided to Molly. “It’s not like I didn’t know it was a bad idea. I just feel like I need to give Charlie some space to figure out what kind of dad he wants to be.”

Molly nodded. “You’d think he’d remember, with all those younger siblings, and he was a prefect too! But he’ll get there, love, don’t worry.”

Lauren smiled as she saw Angelina walking towards them. “Hello, you must be Lauren? I’m Angelina!”

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” Lauren said, shaking Angelina’s hand. “From memory, you’re George’s partner?”

“Is that what he called me?” Angelina looked a bit surprised, and Lauren reached out her hand.

“Oh no, sorry, that’s my term rather than his. Have I put my foot in it? I’m not used to the ins and outs of your culture yet; I don’t mean any harm…”

“Gods, no,” said Angelina, raising her eyebrows with a big grin and patting Lauren in reassurance. “I was just curious as to how he describes me. I’m not sure where we’re headed at the moment, but it’s not a bad thing! Please call me Ange or Angie by the way; everyone else does. Oh, yes please, Molly,” she said as she was offered a cup of tea.

“Come and sit with me,” Molly said to Angelina, patting her side of the bench. “This might be our only chance to catch up together and get to know Lauren a bit before things get out of hand.” She looked carefully at Angelina before asking, “Are things OK with you and George, love?”

Angelina looked at Hermione and then Molly. Part of her really wanted to confide her concerns to her friend and George’s mum, but she was worried that George might not be pleased if she shared too much and caused Molly to fuss more. Angelina was aware, of course, that George had slept with Fred and Hermione the previous night, and she wished that she could have been there for him instead. But her training schedule was relentless and she would have been too exhausted to apparate home even if the quidditch players weren’t made to stay together for the sake of building team spirit.

“I’m worried that I’m not always there enough for him, but I think he’s dealing with things in his own way,” she told Molly slowly. “We’re all adjusting, and things have happened quickly.”

Hermione caught the look in her eyes and took over. “It’s a lot of change in a short time, for all of us, and the bond that Fred and I share has effects on George as well, but the four of us are talking openly and we’ll let you know if there’s anything you can do, Mum, I promise.”

That seemed to satisfy Molly for now and Angelina cast Hermione a grateful look, which the younger witch acknowledged with the tiniest of nods. Both of the women were aware that Fred and George often preferred to handle issues themselves rather than having Molly involved, and there was a fine line to be tread between having an open and trusting relationship with Molly and ending up with her being more involved in the men’s lives than they might want her to be.

By the time everybody had a fresh cup of tea and Hermione and Angelina had been given cake (making Hermione doubly grateful that she had had a tiny breakfast), the four women were chatting as if they had known each other forever. At Hermione’s suggestion, she, Angelina and Molly each gave Lauren a five-minute summary of their life story, which turned out to be a great way of breaking the ice and learning lots about each other in a short time. Lauren had very much liked the sound of Angelina’s dad – with or without fabulous seafront fish restaurant – and was keen to meet him.

“We’ll take you and Charlie sometime,” Angelina promised. “Maybe on a weekend…”

Lauren enjoyed learning more about Hermione’s story too, though she already knew some of it from the time they had spent together at Lauren’s cottage during the week. Hermione tried to focus instead on the things that Lauren didn’t already know; she shared a bit more of her love story with Fred, and then began to tell Lauren about how she had shared a room with Charlie the night before her wedding. She was in the middle of telling Lauren what a wonderful elder brother Charlie had been after her pre-wedding nightmare when Molly interrupted.

“Why on earth were you sleeping in with Charlie?” Molly asked.

Hermione’s expression froze, having completely forgotten that she had ended up in Bill’s bed because she had heard Ginny and Harry having sex in Ginny’s room and had found herself a refugee in need of a new place to spend the night before her wedding.

“Do you know,” Hermione said slowly, “the whole thing was such a blur that I honestly can’t remember…”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Molly’s lips were pursed, but Angelina realised that there was a smile behind them. She hoped.

“Erm…” Hermione was lost for words, and Molly took pity on her, touching her arm. 

“I need to turn over a new leaf,” she said. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to do it in one go, but I desperately want to have a good relationship with all my daughters … by blood, marriage or adoption. If I want you all to feel you can talk to me, about anything – and I do want that, very much – then I need to let go of some of the values that I was raised with. That’s part of what everyone fought for, yes?” Angelina and Hermione nodded.

“Can’t say I’m over the moon about all these modern sleeping arrangements,” Molly confided, to nobody in particular. “But Ginny and Harry are a good match and at least Ginny isn’t playing around with a wizard who’ll hurt her. And by the way, darling,” Molly touched Angelina’s arm, “I want you to know that, if you want to stay here with George anytime, in his bed, you’re very welcome and I promise I won’t give you nearly as much grief as I gave poor Hermione and Fleur in their time.” She looked a bit embarrassed and Hermione made a point of catching her eye and smiling. Wanting to let Molly know that they were OK.

“Thank you.” Angelina was so grateful for that. If she and George could stay here together, that might help things a bit, especially on holidays. 

“Although,” Molly added. “Be it on your own head, as I still won’t clean under the beds in their room. Too many surprises, and I’m sure they add new ones each time they visit!”

Angelina and Hermione both laughed at that, knowing how true it was. 

“Alright, Lauren, that’s really enough about me … would you tell us a bit about your life now?” 

Lauren looked into Molly’s eyes, and then at Hermione and Angelina. It was clear that all three women – or, she corrected herself with a smile, witches – were genuinely caring and wanting to help her in any way they could. Hermione delved into her bag and brought out her cross stitch project, knowing that this would take everyone’s eyes away from Lauren.

“OK, well I was born in a village not that unlike this one and I had an idyllic childhood, with lots of animals and trees and space and walks in the country. I have one younger sister and my parents were both lecturers too,” she began. “Like I am now.” Then she looked up to check Molly and Angelina’s understanding. “And just to clarify, that’s a teacher who teaches adults. You have to have a very deep understanding of your subject. My mum taught law and my dad taught sociology, and they used to have some very interesting debates!” She smiled at the memory. “They were always a bit different from everyone else’s parents. Hippies, we would call them. They thought a bit differently; challenged things in their culture, if that makes sense? Didn’t just accept things as they were. They taught my sister and I to do the same; to really think things through and not just accept that what everyone else thought was the right way. That’s probably why I ended up doing what I do.”

“They sound wonderful,” Molly said quietly, and Lauren nodded.

“They were,” said Lauren. “I still miss them.”

“How long has it been?” Hermione asked. “If it’s OK to ask?”

“It’s OK,” Lauren replied. “Though it would be fab if you could all tell everyone else so I don’t have to keep doing this!”

Angelina reached out for Lauren’s hand. “We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to.”

Lauren turned her own hand to hold Angelina’s fingers with her own. “Strangely, I do,” she said. “It’s a really huge part of my story. My whole universe has been tipped upside down over the last few days, and I’m realising that part of the decision that I need to make now that I’ve met Charlie again has to do with what happened to my mum and dad.”

“How do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“I’ll have to tell you the story for it to make sense.” Lauren adjusted her position, putting one foot underneath her other leg on the bench. “I was twenty-two when it happened. I was at university, I had almost finished my first degree, and I was having a lovely time. They were on holiday, in a hire car, and a drunk driver crashed into them. They wouldn’t have known anything about it, which is a huge source of comfort to me.” She looked up. Her eyes were full of tears, but she indicated that she was OK and wanted to continue. “My sister and I coped in different ways. As soon as we had sorted their affairs, she left uni and began to travel, though she only ran for a year or so and then she met a lovely man and settled down with him, abroad. She never finished her studies, but that was always more my thing than hers anyway.”

Lauren paused to sip her tea.

“I threw myself into studying. Didn’t have to worry about money, because they had life insurance and a house and all sorts, so I had the freedom to do what I wanted.” She looked around, to see that all three of the women were transfixed by her story. “Got my PhD in record time, and then I became a lecturer myself.” She looked up again, directly at Molly. “Some of this is going to get a bit juicy…” she said, and Molly nodded.

“I’ve already told you I had a fairly conservative upbringing and I’ve been more judgemental than I should have been in my time, but I’ve seen a few things these past years ... and it’s me that needs to adapt, so don’t you worry about offending me. I’m working on rediscovering my nineteen year old self,” Molly winked. Hermione looked at Molly and smiled at her words, remembering the photo of the younger woman that was in the house.

“I think,” Lauren continued, taking that as permission to continue without censoring herself, “that losing my parents made me afraid of commitment. I loved them so, so much, and the grief was hard to bear. The shock of it. And two things were going on for me...” 

Hermione smiled to herself. She loved Lauren’s ability to analyse feelings and situations and break them down in a way that was almost mathematical. She made a note to tell Lauren one day how just being around her was helping Hermione to process her own feelings about everything that had happened to her during the wizarding war. Angelina’s mind was also whirring; she was wondering whether talking to Lauren might help George, but she tried to stop that train of thought so she could listen properly to her new friend’s story. 

“One was that I realised that kissing and flirting and sex would numb the pain of the grief a bit. And, hey, I was a feminist social science scholar, so I was reading all this stuff about how women need to reclaim their sexuality and so on. I learned, and I practised, and I taught every man I met some of the things that I wanted all men to know and to take forward into the world.”

Again, Hermione smiled to her cross stitch. She herself had been the recipient of Lauren’s teaching and advice, and she knew her relationship with Fred was better for it. This time though, she felt Lauren’s fingers on her arm, and the older woman smiled at her. Hermione realised that Lauren already knew that, presumably from Charlie, and she laughed softly.

“It’s best I don’t ask this time, isn’t it?” asked Molly.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing myself,” said Angelina, faking a shudder of horror, and the two women clinked their tea mugs in a silent toast which made all four of them laugh. 

“This is what I love about having real, proper friendships with women,” Lauren said. “You can laugh and cry in the same conversation and it’s just, well, real. If this is your family, then I should get over my commitment phobia and jump straight in with both feet.”

“Commitment phobia?” Molly asked, not having heard that term before.

Lauren looked at Molly, nodding her head. “That’s the second thing that was going on for me, after I lost my parents. I was spending lots of time with men, but I was terrified of the idea of falling in love, of making a commitment. I don’t think I realised that at the time, though. I saw it as me getting liberated, reclaiming a woman’s right to sow some wild oats. And don’t get me wrong, I did have a lovely time! I don’t regret any of it. I learned about myself and I think the fact that it helped me to ignore my grief a bit somehow meant that some of the grief could kind of heal itself or get processed when I wasn’t looking.” She looked around at the other three women. “Does ANY of this make sense? I’m saying a lot but I’m not sure if I’m doing a good job of explaining it.”

“You’re doing a brilliant job,” Angelina said. “It’s lovely to get to know you, and it’s actually helping me no end. We’ve all been through some shit recently, and lost people, like we told you. It helps to hear other people’s stories…”

Lauren murmured in understanding. “Well, then,” she said, “I decided I needed a nice long break to catch up on some reading and sleep and so I went to Romania for a summer. To a spa in the mountains. I had no thought that I’d meet anyone there; it was quiet and most of the guests were a lot older than I was.” She shook her head. “But then one day, in walked a man looking for a beer. He was gorgeous, I was attracted. He smiled, and I invited him to join me. I thought it would be just a pleasant chat or, at most, another quick fling.”

“My Charlie?” Molly asked, and Lauren nodded again.

“Your Charlie.” Lauren gave her a lopsided smile. “The man who finally stopped me in my tracks and made me question everything… If I may say, I have a lot of admiration for the values you’ve passed on to Charlie and Fred and George. And probably everyone else you’ve raised, though I’ve not met them yet. I understand what you’re saying about moving with the times and changing values, but if I can raise Elliot to be the kind of man you’ve raised Charlie to be, well then I’ll consider I’ve done a good job.”

Molly was a bit overwhelmed by that, and Hermione only exacerbated that with her agreement. “Fred too,” she said. “Under all the cheek, he’s so considerate of my feelings. He still needs a bit of touching up, here and there,” she smiled, thinking of the way that George had pulled him off her and lectured him about appropriate behaviour towards witches with period pain, “but thank you, Molly. Thank you for raising my husband to be an amazing man.”

“And mine,” said Angelina, putting her arm around Molly. “Well not that he’s my husband, but you know what I mean!”

“Get away with you all!” said Molly, who was delighted and rather overwhelmed to be hearing this, but had no idea how to deal with the compliment. Her face told the story though, and Angelina took pity on her and took charge of the teapot as a distraction from Molly’s flushed state. 

“We’ll give Molly more love later, but I for one am desperate to hear the next bit of Lauren’s story … we were just getting to the good bit! You and Charlie … gorgeous man looking for a beer, so what happened?” 

Lauren had been smiling at Molly along with the others but, upon hearing Angelina’s question, her face became a bit more serious again. She took a deep breath in and blew it out. Molly, Hermione and Angelina all held their own breath while she paused. They didn’t want to break this spell and interrupt what Lauren might want to say next. Hermione could see how she would be an amazing lecturer; she was such a great storyteller.

“I’ve told Hermione some of this already. We had a few drinks and I invited him back to my room. I assumed he would disappear in the night but he didn’t. In the morning, he got up, made me tea and then asked if he could join me for breakfast. And then, other than when he needed to work, he just sort of stayed around. Always friendly and thoughtful and kind. He and I spent an amazing few weeks together in Romania and, when I got back to England to start work again, my emotions were all over the place. A few weeks later, when I realised I was pregnant with his baby, I put my feelings for him down to hormones. And I couldn’t find him, so what could I do?” 

Lauren shrugged. “When he didn’t come looking for me,” she paused and swallowed, looking across the garden at Charlie, as if she still couldn’t quite believe she had found him again, “well I put all my energy into growing and feeding and loving our baby instead.” A slow smile crossed her face as she drank more tea. “Of course, being pregnant and having a baby stopped my, well, extra-curricular activities.”

Molly looked at Hermione, not understanding the term. Hermione mouthed the word ‘sex’ and Molly responded with wide open eyes and then a broad smile. She could see that she was going to need to learn quite a lot in her adjustment to having adult daughters-in-law, and quickly. But she was absolutely loving having this chat with three of them, and hoped that they would be able to do this more.

“Just to save anyone wondering and … well, I’ve not even kissed another man since I met Charlie. Just didn’t want to.” She looked over at her son, who was still playing with Fred and George, while Charlie chatted to Arthur. “Being pregnant and having Elliot gave me time to grieve my parents properly. Adjust … think about everything. I began to see how I’d put a barrier up to protect myself. How I didn’t want to take the risk of falling in love because I knew that meant the risk of losing someone else, and that hurt so much.”

As a tear dropped onto the table in front of Lauren, Hermione reached out and rubbed her back.

“I’m more OK now though,” she reassured Hermione. “I know I might not look it, but tears are just a way of releasing energy you no longer want to hold onto. They’re a way to let stress hormones out. I cry a lot these days, and I don’t worry about it.”

Hermione let out a choking laugh. “Gods,” she said, “since the day before Fred and I got married, I cry all the time. It’s like I’ve gone from being this strong, bossy witch to being someone who cries a lot.”

Lauren looked confused. “It’s not an either/or thing, lovely. You can be both at the same time, you know. You can feel overwhelmed and still be strong. You can need to cry several times a day and still maintain your core beliefs and everything else that makes you be you…”

“I need to tell Georgie some of this,” Angelina whispered, almost to herself.

“Oh, Angie,” Molly’s face fell again. “I really meant it; do let me know how I can help, won’t you?”

Angelina nodded. “I will. I’m still trying to work that out myself, Molly.”

“See,” Hermione turned to Lauren again. “We’re all a bit fuc-, I mean messed up too.” Molly laughed out loud when she heard Hermione’s quick change of vocabulary. She was surprised to find that she was secretly a bit happy to hear the evidence of her middle son’s effect on his wife; it indicated, to her at least, that they were growing towards each other and that Fred was helping Hermione to loosen up and perhaps feel a bit less responsible for others.

Lauren smiled. “Well, it’s nice that we can all be fucked up together.” She looked at Molly, not exactly defiantly, but she felt it was important not to pretend to be someone other than who she was. She needed Charlie’s mum to understand that she was a straight-talking woman who said what she thought and who had no time for game-playing. Molly laughed, and Lauren’s face broke into a relieved grin.

Hermione had picked up on something important though, and now was as good a time to ask as any. “When you say about not wanting to fall in love, though … do you mean that’s what you had been doing, or is that still going on for you, like with Charlie?” 

“Well,” said Lauren slowly. “That’s the million-pound question, isn’t it?” She sighed. “I absolutely want Charlie in Elliot’s life, as his dad, of course. And I can’t deny that I’m still very attracted to him. But can I make the leap to something else with him and cope with being in a different world?” 

Lauren took another deep breath and all three of the other women leaned in, eager to hear what she was going to say next. They all knew how much Charlie loved her, and they all desperately wanted her to create a family with their much-loved son and brother-in-law. 

Lauren smiled to see their faces and shook her head a bit, composing herself and planning her next words carefully. She opened her mouth but, before she could say any more, they heard tiny footsteps pounding towards them and a gleeful shout from Elliot, who was waving a twig in the air.

“Whoooosh, mummy, whooooosh!”

As Lauren turned and opened her arms for Elliot to run into, Molly was about to ask Elliot what he was trying to tell them when she noticed Bill and Fleur apparating just beyond the wards. They began to wave from across the garden. Molly immediately levitated everything back onto the tea tray, planning to head back to the house for fresh supplies. Charlie, who had been watching Elliot from the other side of the garden, wanting to ensure that he made it safely to Lauren, turned and went to greet them.

“That’s strange,” said Angelina.

“What do you mean?” asked Lauren. Almost everything seemed strange to her; it was quite nice to know that she wasn’t the only one.

“Well, I could have sworn that Elliot was already running and shouting before they actually appeared … or maybe that was my imagination.”

“No, it’s not you,” Lauren replied, stroking her fingers through Elliot’s hair as he knelt on her lap and played with the beads around her neck. “He does the same thing at home, don’t you, lovely? He says whoosh before people arrive. It seems like he knows a couple of seconds before they actually appear. I keep meaning to ask Hermione about it, but there’s been so much else going on…”

“Whoooosh,” said Elliot, waving his twig again as if to confirm his mother’s words.

Molly was frowning and she stopped in her tracks, the tea tray suspended in front of her. “I’ve never heard of that being possible before.”

“Oh,” said Lauren, a bit disappointed. “And I was hoping you’d be able to explain it and tell me what it meant!”

“Could it be some kind of divination?” Angelina asked. Hermione wrinkled her nose. She had never believed that divination was worth studying, although in recent months she had been a bit more prepared to take more on trust than she had before. Especially now she had the experience of the bond she shared with Fred and George. She wouldn’t necessarily have believed that such a close connection was possible before she had experienced that herself, either.

Angelina rolled her eyes and started to laugh. “Trelawney’s going to love him. She’s the divination professor at the school we all went to,” she explained to Lauren. “And yes, I do mean divination as in predicting the future. He’s going to be her star pupil!”

“Oh, Gods,” said Hermione, joining in the laughter. Then, realising that the newcomers were headed their way, closely followed by Charlie, she touched Lauren’s arm to get her attention. “That’s Bill and Fleur, by the way. We’re all trying to stagger our arrival so you don’t have to deal with too many people at once!” Lauren nodded, grateful for that. “I won’t forget we need to come back to the apparition conversation, though,” Hermione continued. “It might be important.”


	34. Parenting with magic

Elliot was mesmerised. The woman walking towards him was beautiful, and he scrambled down from the bench so he could run towards her. She was with a tall redheaded man, but Elliot wasn’t interested in him. He just wanted to be close to the woman and, as he neared her, he reached his arms out towards her, desperately hoping she would notice him. 

She did. 

When she was close enough, she responded by reaching down and catching him in her arms before picking him up, looking across at his mother and smiling to let her know that she had only good intentions. Elliot touched the woman’s face with his fingers; he was enraptured by her beautiful smile. 

Back at the picnic table, his grandmother laughed softly while Angelina quietly explained the situation to Lauren.

“Fleur has a bit of veela blood in her, and veelas are magical women who are VERY attractive to men. Clearly even tiny men.”

“Like sirens?” Lauren asked. She looked a bit worried

Angelina looked at Hermione. “I’m not sure?”

“No, no,” Hermione replied, shaking her head to emphasise her point and reassure Lauren. “Pure veela do have a darker side, but Fleur only has a bit of veela blood, and she would never hurt Elliot or anyone else. It’s purely an attraction thing, and most of our men have become immune to her charm now…”

“Except when she makes crepes, and then I fear I may lose George to her, but that’s nothing to do with her being part veela,” Angelina joked, pulling a face.

Hermione laughed. “Fred, in particular, he’s not at all affected now we’re bonded.”

“Hello!” Fleur managed to hold onto Elliot, her hand behind his head while leaning down to kiss Lauren on both cheeks. “I am Fleur, and you must be Lauren.”

“Indeed I am,” Lauren smiled. “And I see you’ve already met my son!”

When Fleur turned so that Elliot faced his mum, Lauren saw that his pupils were dilated and he had a peaceful smile on his face. She couldn’t help but chuckle as she spoke to her son. “I thought it might take you longer to fall in love for the first time, but this is good too,” she teased him, before turning to the man who stood beside them. “As long as it’s OK with your uncle…”

“Bill,” he grinned, holding out his hand to shake Lauren’s before leaning down and kissing her cheek. She gave him a big smile.

“I thought so. Lovely to meet you,” she said, “and thank you for helping Charlie yesterday.”

Bill shrugged. “Yesterday, the past two and a half decades, it all rolls into one!” He clapped Charlie on the back as his brother arrived with Arthur, the two wizards clearly content with the current state of their barbeque preparation and ready to join the conversation. “And now you’ve made a mini Charlie for me to help look after as well!” He reached for Elliot’s hand and the little boy took it, but without really paying attention.

They all laughed, and Fleur adjusted Elliot on her hip. He was heavier than she had anticipated, and he had run at her so quickly that she didn’t have a good enough grip on him to stand for long without shifting his position. Bill and Arthur saw her dilemma simultaneously. Bill took the opportunity to say a proper hello to Elliot and tell the little wizard his name, while helping Fleur to shift his weight. In the meantime, Arthur lifted his wand, moving a wooden bench behind Fleur so she could sit down.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Fleur said, as she made herself and Elliot comfortable. Molly fussed with additional teapots and mugs and cake, and they exchanged news of their day as they settled into a conversation. Elliot was certainly content to sit with Fleur and bask in her aura, his cheek on her shoulder. Bill’s attempts to engage his nephew in conversation were mostly in vain and he and Charlie exchanged a quick glance, both wondering how long this effect would last.

“Will he come back to us at any point?” Lauren asked, half joking and just slightly concerned about how enthralled her son was with his newly arrived auntie.

Angelina and Hermione looked at each other.

“We know how to break it,” Angelina said, well versed in the effects of veela on men from the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and she signalled Hermione to use her bond connection with the twins to get their attention. Fred and George, who had been chatting intently under a tree and catching up on their ‘twin time’, came bouncing over to the picnic tables, bowing to their respective women before taking turns to slap Bill on the back and kiss Fleur on the cheeks.

“Your nephew needs some male energy to help remind him that there is more to life than falling in love with Auntie Fleur,” Angelina said, and the two men laughed.

“Right, mate,” George said, plucking Elliot out of Fleur’s arms and gleefully throwing him a few inches up in the air before catching him again and swooping him down between his legs, causing Elliot to shout in excitement.

“That’ll do it,” said Fred. “Come on!” and the three of them gambolled away across the lawn, Elliot under George’s arm and Fleur all but forgotten. Charlie watched the twins, a bit wistfully. He could have done that if he had realised it would help.

“They had some practice in breaking that spell at school when Fleur and a load of her classmates visited one year,” Hermione explained.

“I will try and remember to tone it down,” Fleur said to Lauren with a glance at Charlie as well. “And then he can meet Bill properly too,” she looked at her husband a bit apologetically, but he reassured her with a shake of his head and a hand on her shoulder.

“Not on my account,” Lauren replied. “It’s wonderful how he went to you like that; I say leave it on, whatever is it!”

“I tell you what, though,” Molly said, looking at no-one in particular.

“What’s that, love?” Arthur replied.

Molly looked at Fleur. “If you have that effect on all the male Weasley grandchildren, you’re going to be in high demand as a calming and sleep aid!”

Fleur laughed. “It is nice to know that I may have a useful role, in such a big family!” 

Bill leaned towards her with a teasing look on his face. “I wonder if that means any boys we have will be calm?”

“Alas,” Fleur told him, “I probably won’t have that effect on our own children. We can only hope that Lauren or Hermione or Angelina have superpowers that work on ours!”

“Or just borrow Fred and George to exhaust them,” Hermione added, nodding her head towards the chasing game that the three were now playing on the lawn. Charlie looked over as well, not entirely sure how he felt in that moment. He couldn’t help but feel a little tender about the fact that it was Fred and George who had been called in to help, not to mention how much Elliot loved to run around with the twins whenever they appeared.

“Yeah, that’ll work too,” Angelina was saying, and the conversations multiplied a bit after that, with Angelina asking Hermione about her plans to start work in the shop the next day and Lauren taking the chance to chat more with Fleur. Bill nudged Charlie. “Walk a bit with me,” he said, and Charlie stood. “I need to stretch my legs.”

“Want to talk about it?” Bill asked, once they had walked far enough that they couldn’t be heard from the table. He didn’t meet his younger brother’s eyes. Sometimes it was easier that way.

Charlie shook his head. “Nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, OK,” Bill bent and picked up a rock from the lawn, throwing it into the trees so that no-one would fall over it. “So you’re not feeling at all sore about how much Elliot loves playing with the gruesome twosome?” He indicated Fred and George, who continued playing their game of tag around the garden with the little boy who was squealing their names – or at least his version of their names, with Fred still trying to teach him to say ‘George’ at every opportunity – in glee.

Charlie shrugged. “Got no right to be. Fred met him first. Couldn’t be helped. And Angelina was only trying to help…”

“Bollocks.” Bill’s voice was quiet and deep, and the strength of it made Charlie turn to look at him. When their eyes met, they didn’t need words to communicate any more than Fred and George. Bill knew that Charlie was feeling uncertain, for more than one reason, and they both knew that Bill was going to try and make him feel better about it. 

“Are you going to give me some of your curse breaking negotiation wisdom then?” Charlie sounded more terse than he felt.

“Nope.”

“Oh.” Charlie stopped walking and leaned back against the garden wall. He didn’t mean to be surly with Bill, especially after yesterday, but he was still figuring out how he was going to best fit into Elliot’s life. Especially when Elliot was so excited to meet the rest of his family, which he was, of course, also very pleased about. But Charlie wanted his own space with his son too, and he was trying hard not to feel jealous of how easy it was for Fred and George and everyone else to relate to Elliot when Charlie felt more reticent. Partly because he kept cocking up by using magic at inappropriate times. And that was doubly difficult because he wanted so badly for Lauren to accept him not just as Elliot’s dad, but as her man as well.

“I will try and talk some sense into you though. Clearly someone needs to.”

Charlie shook his head. “I told you, I don’t blame them. I’m really grateful that Fred and ‘Mione took Elliot on Friday night so that Lauren and I could have time together. I just have to live with the consequences of that.”

“Bollocks do you, Charlie.”

“Well I can’t run in and grab him off them, can I? And he’s happy, you know?”

“Indeed. Just like you and I used to be when Fabian and Gideon came over.” He paused for a moment, letting that sink in. “Do you remember them? Our own twin uncles?”

“Of course I do.”

“I often wish they had known them better.” Bill inclined his head towards Fred and George. “They’re so similar to how I remember Fabian and Gideon.”

“Yeah.” Charlie agreed. “They’d have been fucking hideous together though, as a foursome of grown-up pranksters … can you imagine?!” They both laughed, and then Charlie continued. “That’s the thing, Bill. I want him to have that with them. With you, Fleur, all of you. I just need to figure out where I fit in. And not be jealous when he doesn’t want me all the time.”

"Well that’s the easy bit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Bill sounded more confident than ever. “Once you’re done with today, now you’ve got your time off sorted, you and Lauren can hide away for a bit; work things out. Thanks for the note, by the way. Elena’s safe at ours til you need her. More importantly, who taught you to pee standing up?" 

Charlie looked at him, a bit surprised by the sudden swerve in conversational direction and uncertain of where this was going.

"I'm serious," Bill said. "Do you remember? Mum always sat us on the loo seat, so how did you graduate to standing?"

"Dad," Charlie said, smiling as he remembered.

"Exactly. And how long did it take?"

Charlie laughed. "Fucking ages."

Bill grinned. "Yeah, it did. I thought there might be something wrong with you. Do you remember the ping pong ball?"

"Oh Gods, yes," said Charlie, tipping his head back with a soft laugh, although he had in fact forgotten until that moment how Arthur had brought a muggle plastic ball home from work, drawn a funny face on it with a quill and put it into the toilet bowl to help improve Charlie's aim. It had worked, and it remained a fixture in The Burrow’s upstairs toilet for years, although it had taken Charlie longer than any of his brothers to be able to hit it every time.

There was a pause while Charlie pondered. It wasn't that his uncles would have refused to do that if he had needed it. But it wouldn't have occurred to them; it wasn't part of their role. They were the flying teachers, the purveyors and providers of quality pranks, the bringers of joy with less responsibility. Like Fred and George would be for Elliot. His dad, well that was something else entirely. Arthur Weasley had provided continuity and guidance; he was a solid, everyday presence who could be relied upon for almost anything. Charlie could be that person for Elliot, he realised. "You’re right. Thanks Bill," he said quietly. "I needed that."

Bill bumped his brother's shoulder. "Well let's just hope Elliot's quicker at learning that than you were," he winked. “Hello...” he said, nudging Charlie’s shoulder. “Here’s the man himself…”

Charlie turned to see Arthur approaching. 

“Your mum sent me. Think she thinks you might need some fatherly input,” Arthur said as he reached them. “But as much as I obey everything she says at the moment, I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“I’m alright, Dad. Thanks. Adjusting, I guess…” He pulled Arthur into a hug, slightly surprising the older man, who put his arms around his son and encouraged Charlie to lean on him. “Thanks for being a great dad. We’re talking about the difference between dads and uncles.”

Arthur nodded, watching Elliot playing with Fred and George. He could easily see how that conversation topic might have come about. Arthur, like Percy, observed first and spoke later. He patted Charlie’s shoulders before the two men parted and leaned against the wall, side by side. 

Arthur spoke slowly. “He needs you the most, Charlie; you’re his dad. And that comes with more responsibility than being an uncle. You need to be a consistent, solid presence for him. Which doesn’t mean you can’t play, of course, but you need to draw the lines for him.” He nodded towards the twins. “They’ll have to learn that when they have kids and then you’ll get to play uncle.” Arthur turned to see that both Bill and Charlie were drinking in this wisdom as if it was vintage firewhisky. “Kids actually like boundaries, believe it or not. It makes them feel safe. Well,” he looked again at Fred and George, who were trying to teach Elliot to turn cartwheels, “most kids, anyway.”

Charlie nodded. “Thanks,” he said again, looking at them both. “This is such a head trip.”

Arthur patted his son’s shoulder again. “It must be. Well, your mum and I, we’re happy to help. We all are. You won’t lack babysitters whenever you and Lauren need some time for just the two of you.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Charlie said. “I don’t know where we’re going, but I’m working on her.” He looked at Bill then, with a wide grin. “Alright, I don’t want everyone to wonder what’s up with me, let’s go back.”

Not five minutes after they rejoined their family at the table, Elliot ran from Fred and George and whispered in his mum’s ear. She smiled and nodded to him and then beckoned Charlie to her.

“Elliot needs the loo. Can you show us where it is please?” She spoke quietly, so as not to draw too much attention to the little boy.

“Of course,” said Charlie, reaching out his hand. “Why don’t I take you, and your mum can carry on chatting?”

“OK,” said Elliot cheerfully, taking his dad’s hand and allowing Charlie to lead him to the kitchen door. Charlie deliberately avoided Bill’s eyes, not wanting to spark a wider conversation around the table, but he couldn’t help but grin as he passed his eldest brother. 

Lauren turned to Molly. “While he’s not here, can we go back to the conversation about Elliot being able to sense apparition before we see the person? Does it mean he’s a wizard?” 

“I guess it means he can sense magic,” Hermione said slowly, making room beside her for Fred as he and George joined them at the table, needing a rest and a drink after their exertions. 

“I don’t think it’s definitive confirmation of a magical core, sorry,” said Arthur. “I want to know as much as you do, but we mustn’t jump to conclusions. We’ll find out eventually. Or else we’ll have to repeat Project George.” He gave Molly a meaningful look, and she chuckled, shaking her head.

“Merlin, I had forgotten about that!” she said. “I hope we never to have to do anything like that again!”

“What’s Project George? George as in my George?” Angelina looked a bit concerned, looking at her boyfriend who had squeezed himself onto the bench in between Angelina and Molly in order to be closer to the cake.

“Yes,” Molly and Arthur said together, and then Molly gestured to Arthur to explain.

“When you two were tiny, you were inseparable,” he told his twin sons. “We couldn’t put you in different cots, and you didn’t even want to be one each side of Molly in bed. You had to be slap bang next to each other or you fussed and yelled until you were.”

“We had to cuddle you together or not at all,” Bill chipped in, remembering how they had been a lot of weight for his small arms. Charlie, a couple of years younger, had struggled even more, though he had always been strong, even as a child.

“You were little buggers to breastfeed!” Molly reprimanded them with a laugh. “Had to be touching each other all the time then, too.” She rolled her eyes, to the amusement of everyone. “Couldn’t tuck one under each arm or anything easy like that, oh no … it’s a wonder my back still holds me up!”

“We could tell right away that you had some kind of a twin bond, like your uncles,” their dad said, with a loving look at his wife, “because of the way you communicated with each other, and that wasn’t an issue until one day, when you were about the age Elliot is now, one of you did accidental magic. And then a few days later it happened again. But whenever it happened, only one of you did it, and the other clapped in joy.” He looked between the two similar faces, facing each other across the garden table, wondering how they would take this story. “We wanted to find out whether you both had the same kind of magical ability, but there wasn’t any easy way to tell you apart, so we put you in ‘F’ and ‘G’ tops for a few weeks – this was before you could dress yourselves,” Arthur laughed, “so you couldn’t swap them – and we watched.” 

“And,” Molly interjected, “as we had suspected, it was always Fred that did the magic. Every time.” She looked at her eldest twin. “Whatever happened, you were the instigator. George seemed to be involved in the planning as well as the celebrating, and he always stood right beside you and took equal blame, but we were watching you so closely and Fred was always in charge of doing the actual magic.”

Arthur took over the explanation again. “Well, after a while, we got a bit worried, because we hadn’t seen George use any magic himself. We talked to Minerva and to Molly’s twin brothers and we all began to wonder if Fred was doing the magic for both of you, and where that left little Georgie.” Molly reached out for George, who allowed himself to be pulled into a cuddle. “You might think it was mean, but we wanted to make sure that his development wasn’t hindered, and we had to find a way to persuade him to start using his own magical core – if he had one. We were concerned it might be only Fred who could do the actual magic,” Arthur explained. 

“So we initiated Project George,” Molly said.

“What did you do?” Fred put his hands on his hips. Hermione-style. He was half-joking, but it was very clear that, even now, his first instinct where George was concerned was protection of the second-born twin. Hermione and Angelina exchanged a glance. They were the only people around the table who knew that Fred and George, sitting opposite each other, had tangled their long legs and feet together as a means of comforting each other. 

Arthur reached out from his seat and touched his son’s arm. “We temporarily took away the thing George loved most. I flooed with you in my arms to Muriel’s. We planned that I would bring you back exactly three minutes later, and Molly stayed next to the fireplace with little George.” 

“What happened?” Hermione had moved even closer to her husband and she put her arm snugly around his waist, hugging him to her and using their bond connection to remind him of her love and to send some to George as well. She could feel that he was a bit stressed by hearing this, or perhaps by George’s reaction to it; it was evoking an old memory that he wasn’t consciously aware of, and she wanted to offer as much reassurance as she could. She was glad to see Angie moving closer to George and taking him in her arms as well.

Molly and Arthur both smiled, in reminiscence. “You know those scorch marks on the tiles in front of the fireplace?”

“Yes,” several people said at once.

“That happened. George shouted as Arthur and Fred disappeared. Then he ran to the fireplace, held out his hands and conjured a series of increasingly impressive showers of sparks, presumably hoping to recreate the flames and bring Fred back. He thought it worked, of course. He was ever so pleased with himself, because the last shower caused the marks AND coincided with Arthur bringing Fred back.”

“Fred who had yelled into my ear for the entire three minutes and used his own magic to turn my favourite cap into slime, which was dripping down my face by the time we got back.” Arthur shrugged. “Served me right, really, though we genuinely were doing it for their own good.”

“The joys of parenting; having to make difficult decisions when there’s no rule book or right answer,” said Lauren, and both the older Weasleys smiled and raised their eyebrows in understanding.

“You wouldn’t let go of each other for days, and we spent all week giving you ice cream and new toys because we felt so guilty.”

“It worked though,” Arthur smiled at his wife and sons fondly. “Fred continued to be the main instigator, and his ability to transfigure things at that age was unprecedented, but we had managed to get you to use your own magical core rather than standing back and letting Fred do it all. And we always wondered if that sparked your love of fireworks!”

Several people groaned at Arthur’s pun, and Molly had to raise her voice to be heard. “Yes, and from then on it was doubly hard to cope!”

“Well thank you for ensuring I wasn’t a squib … I think!” George said, and everyone laughed again, relieved to be through the potentially difficult bit of that conversation. He turned to Angelina, who still had a concerned look on her face. Leaning in, he gave her a deep kiss, tangling his fingers in her dark hair. His automatic closing of the twin bond was felt by Fred and Hermione, who immediately took the chance to share their own kiss.

“What is this,” asked Bill. “Some sort of Weasley twin love-in session?”

No-one had a chance to answer him. “Mummy!” Elliot’s shout was excited and loud as he ran out of the house towards her. “Guess what I did?”

Lauren smiled. Inside a magical house, it was anyone’s guess. “I don’t know lovely, what did you do?”

Elliot seemed to notice that several pairs of eyes were on him, including those of the lovely Auntie Fleur, and decided to whisper in Lauren’s ear rather than tell everyone. He wasn’t as quiet as he thought, though, but for once the Weasley family managed to suppress their noise so as to not embarrass the little boy.

“I peed standing up. Daddy’s helping me learn. He says we need to get a pee pong ball.”

After that, Penelope and Percy’s arrival – pre-empted by another “whoosh” from Elliot which several people clocked on that occasion – might have been an anti-climax if not for the fact that they had brought Elliot a present. After greeting Lauren, they handed him a gift-wrapped book. His polite ‘thank you’ delighted Molly, who felt manners were very important, and earned Lauren another cup of tea. 

“That’s so thoughtful, thank you.” Lauren said to Penelope, as she watched Elliot struggle to work out how to open the gift paper. “Is that magically wrapped?” she asked Percy, who beamed and touched his fiancée on the arm.

“No.” It was Penelope who answered. “My mum isn’t magical, and we went there on the way so we could use her sticky tape! When we told her a bit of your story, she said to tell you that she would love to invite you over for a meal sometime. If it would be good to talk to another non-magical woman who made babies with a wizard.”

“Oh wow,” said Lauren. “That would be amazing! Not that you’re not all wonderful,” she added quickly, and Molly smiled. “But I would really love to talk to someone in the same position!”

Penelope nodded. “Then I’ll give you each other’s numbers and you can set something up when you have time. She is very sympathetic; I’m sure she’ll tell you her own story and help you in any way she can.”

“Thank you.” Lauren was feeling more and more relaxed, but Elliot soon pulled her attention back from enjoying her sense of wellbeing.

“Parcel, Mummy!” he reminded her, a bit impatiently.

“Oh, sorry, lovely!” She held her hand out and then changed her mind. “Actually,” she said, “I think you should ask Daddy to help.” She looked at Charlie and enunciated each syllable in turn. “With his fingers, not his wand.”

Fred’s laugh was loud and he put his hand to his heart. “Oh Gods, I love this woman.”

Buoyed by the trust that Lauren was putting in him, and the support emanating from his family, Charlie grinned back at his brother. “Me too,” he said, openly teasing Lauren with his eyes. “Alright, mate, come here and we’ll work out how to open it together.”

“And I,” said Molly, “will pop in and get some more drinks. The youngest four should be here soon. Lauren, would you like to come with me and I can give you a tour of The Burrow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so Elliot meets more Weasleys, with more of that to come ... you can look forward to another three or four family-focused 'Sunday dinner' chapters before we move back to focus more on Fred and Hermione with Hermione's first day at work. 
> 
> And I have a question which I would like to ask you :D
> 
> Would anyone be interested (when I have finished Nightlights) in a prequel to this which tells the story of how Charlie and Lauren first met and their summer together in Romania? It occurred to me that writing that might be quite fun, so please let me know in the comments if it's something you'd be interested to read :-)


	35. Touring The Burrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely reviews, which are still helping keep me going! If you haven't yet let me know, I'm still keen to find out how much interest there is in a Charlie/Lauren prequel about their summer in Romania, and huge thanks to those who have already cast their vote!

“Now,” said Molly, as she held open the kitchen door and waved her arm to welcome Lauren into The Burrow. “Don’t be afraid to ask anything you like. I shan’t be offended. And I’m very discreet, even though I shout a bit.”

“I quite like women who shout,” Lauren smiled. “Too many of us don’t say what we think, so it’s wonderful to meet someone who does.”

“Yes, well,” said Molly. “There’s some who think I speak my mind too much.” She leaned in closer. “But I don’t worry about them!”

“I couldn’t agree more!” Lauren was slowly looking around her as she spoke, trying – and failing – to take it all in. “This is truly wonderful,” she said to Molly. “So cosy!”

“Thank you.” Molly was, again, so pleased to have her home admired. 

“May I use the loo first?”

“Gods yes, of course. This way!” Molly took Lauren up a couple of half-flights of stairs and showed her the bathroom. “Tap here to flush – your finger will work just as well as a wand – and press here to turn on the tap,” she instructed. 

“Thank you.” Once Molly had left, Lauren looked around. It wasn’t that different from her own bathroom, although she didn’t recognise any of the toiletries, many of which were in plain glass bottles. She very much liked the soap though; it looked home-made and it smelled glorious. Wiping her hands on a soft towel after she had used the loo, Lauren contemplated herself in the mirror, fluffing her hair slightly as she did. As was her habit, she took her moisturizer out of her bag and rubbed some on her face, which was warm and a little dry from the sun. She smiled into the mirror and shook her head, still not quite believing all that had happened in the past couple of days. “You can do this,” she told herself. “There’s going to be lots of change if Elliot is a wizard, but it’s what he will need, and all the evidence suggests that things will be just as good as before. Maybe better.”

And she really did believe that, she thought, as she slowly made her way back down the creaky wooden stairs. Charlie was a good man, she had no doubt of that, and she was being offered a place in this gorgeous, enormous family who were already treating her as if she were one of their own. And yes, if her child was magical then it might mean leaving some of her own world behind, at least on an everyday basis, but she had moved only a couple of years back and many of her current relationships were still more superficial than she would like. The idea of having a new family with whom she could grow a history and have deep relationships was more than Lauren could have dreamed of. Smiling to herself, Lauren wondered how long she would have to wait to find out about Elliot. She had hoped – in vain, she now knew – that Charlie’s parents might just be able to know whether he was a wizard or not, but that wasn’t the case. They would have to wait, maybe weeks or months, if the story of George was anything to go by.

“Everything OK?” Molly asked, when Lauren re-entered the kitchen.

“Thank you, yes,” she replied. “It’s nice to have a few minutes to just get my head around it all.”

“Can I get you anything?” 

“No, I’m OK.” Lauren sighed. “For what it’s worth, I totally understand why you undertook Project George. I feel like my whole life is hanging on knowing for sure whether Elliot is a wizard or not at the moment.” Molly led Lauren to the living room where her eyes grew large at seeing the magical knitting needles clicking away in the corner. Molly lifted her wand, planning to stop them, but Lauren caught her arm. “Don’t worry, it’s OK. I need to get used to it all.”

“Time. You just need time,” Molly reassured, and Lauren nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“Would you really want to know now if you could?” Molly looked closely at Lauren. “Or do you think you need some adjustment time for that, too?”

“I really would want to know now if I could,” Lauren said, without any hesitation. “Hermione was convinced enough when she saw the marks on the kitchen ceiling to tell me about the wizarding world.” Then her stomach fell a bit, as she realised what a risk Hermione had taken for her. “I do get that it wasn’t certain, and I’m so grateful for her for telling me the way she did. And since that day, it has been a rollercoaster of experiences.” 

Lauren missed the look of confusion on Molly’s face at that term, but the older witch got the gist and didn’t interrupt, instead pulling Lauren gently to the sofa. “Come on, love, let’s get it out,” she said, and they sat down together. Molly didn’t let go of the younger woman’s hand as her stream of consciousness continued. 

“And Elliot keeps seeing Charlie do magic, and he’ll see more today, I’m sure, and that’s fine, but the ramifications of sending him back to his playgroup – where he’ll tell everyone about that – are huge.” Lauren finally took a breath before she carried on, with even more emotion in her voice than before. “And yet if he isn’t magical, I don’t know how fair it is to expose him to this world, where he’ll never fit in properly…”

“Lauren Bennett,” said Molly, very quietly. “I don’t know whether we’re really talking about Elliot fitting in or about you fitting in.” Lauren nodded. Molly was spot on there. “But here’s the thing.” Molly took Lauren’s hands into her own. “You’re both ours now, whether you like it or not. And we very much want to keep you.” Molly’s eyes were damp with the depth of emotion she already felt for this young woman that her son had met in the mountains.

Tears fell from Lauren’s eyes too. “I very much want to be kept,” she whispered, as Molly used her wand to summon tissues. 

“Well then, that’s sorted,” Molly said, waiting for Lauren to release her tears and then dry them before she continued. “Now, I can’t give you complete certainty, but I can tell you that I would be flabbergasted if little Elliot doesn’t have a magical core. Our family magic runs deep on both sides, as evidenced by the twins, whose bond is more special than even they know. And there are things that Arthur didn't mention about Project George...” 

“Oh?” Lauren looked up.

“Well our dear friend Minerva, who you will one day meet, did the arithmancy for us. She likes arithmancy, which is something you’ll have to ask Hermione about, because I don’t understand it at all! Anyway, she calculated that the chance of Arthur and I producing a non-magical child was too small even to calculate; it was the twin bond which was the unknown factor. But she also told us all sorts of other numbers, to reassure us about George. Most of them went over my head, but one thing she said that I'll never forget was that our magic ran so deep that the chance of any of our children having a non-magical child, even with a completely non-magical partner, was only about one in seven thousand. I always remembered that number,” she smiled, “though I have no idea why, and I truly never thought it would come in handy…” She laughed a bit at that thought.

“Really?” Lauren felt as if she were teetering on the edge of a cliff, but was surprised to find that she felt exhilarated rather than scared.

Molly nodded her head, looking off to the side. “And when we add in the fact that Elliot can sense apparition, and the strange things that happened at your house … well, yes, technically speaking we do need to wait to be certain, but there’s such a slim chance of him not being a wizard that it’s hardly worth considering.” She searched Lauren’s eyes, hoping the young woman had been honest about her feelings. “You did say you wanted to know…”

“I did,” Lauren opened her arms, and Molly gladly took her into a deep hug. “Thank you. I feel so much better for knowing those are the odds. I still need a bit of time, but knowing the chances are that slim makes my decision a LOT easier.” She blew her nose. “I’d love that tour now, if you have time?”

“Of course!” Molly held out a hand to help Lauren up, although it was Lauren who ended up needing to help Molly more as she rose, and they both laughed at this. For the next fifteen minutes, Molly gave Lauren the grand tour of the rooms and an overview of how a magical household worked, and Lauren was enthralled. “Don’t you be worrying that you need to run a house like this for your family though,” she told Lauren, who managed to stop herself from replying that she didn’t see it as her role to run any house any way. “Once you meet Penelope’s mum, or Seamus or, well lots of other people, you’ll see that it’s perfectly possible to combine the best of both worlds into something that will work for you and Charlie!”

Lauren stopped herself again. She was about to remind Molly that she and Charlie weren’t an item, but at the same time she didn’t want to do any damage to the bond that she was developing with Molly. There would be time to clarify those things later, she supposed. 

“Lauren,” Molly said, more hesitantly this time. “There’s something I want to give you, but I’m a tad worried I might offend you.”

“Oh?” Lauren was curious. “Well,” she said slowly. “Then I promise that I will be open-minded and not take offense. We come from very different cultural backgrounds, and I understand that we have different beliefs. How about we agree that, if we don’t understand something or we have a difference of opinion, we’ll talk it through together calmly and find a place where we can agree or compromise?”

Molly breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, dear, that sounds perfect. OK, so…” She pulled a brown bottle out of her pocket. “I want to give you this. I’m just going to say it … it’s a contraceptive potion that works on wizards. Muggle contraceptives usually work fine, in my understanding, but I imagine you were using something muggle when you made Elliot, and I’m not trying to push you and Charlie together. Well,” she tried to look slightly contrite but ended up looking mischievous instead, “I am, really, but this is not about that. It’s only fair … I just wondered whether … well look, dear, here it is and it’s up to you if you want to take it or not. I’ve written out instructions, and it’s quite safe. Hermione says it’s loads safer than muggle pills.”

“Thank you.” Lauren reached and wrapped her own hand around Molly’s. “For what it’s worth, I’m very touched, and not offended at all. And I don’t know what’s going to happen with Charlie and I, but I appreciate this and I will tuck it away and think about it if and when the time comes.” She leaned forward and gave Molly a kiss on the cheek, which caused Molly to grab Lauren into a tight hug with both arms. “Don’t be offended at this either,” Molly whispered into Lauren’s ear, “but it’s nice to have someone else to cuddle with a bit of meat on them … most of mine are so skinny, like Arthur, and there’s hardly anything to hug! The twins are like beanpoles! And Ginny! At least Charlie has a bit of muscle on him.”

Lauren laughed loudly at that one and agreed heartily with Molly. “Indeed!”

They broke apart and went to the kitchen, as Molly wanted to take more tea back out. “Oh, I wonder when they arrived?” Molly said, almost to herself, as she gathered items onto another large tray which she planned to levitate out into the garden. Lauren looked out and saw another two redheads along with a slim blonde woman and a friendly-looking dark-haired man, who was walking arm-in-arm with Hermione while the newly arrived redheaded man trotted beside them, chatting away. The blonde woman was talking to Charlie, who had sat Elliot on his shoulders and was holding his hands to ensure he didn’t fall.

Molly gave Lauren a quick explanation of who was who, and then led her and levitated the full tray into the garden, so that Lauren could meet Harry, Ginny, Ron and Luna.

“Hello, you must be Ginny?” Lauren extended her hand and Ginny rolled her eyes at it with a grin, pulling Lauren into a hug instead. 

“I am, and it’s lovely to add another woman to the family. Plus Hermione says you’re not afraid to give Fred a run for his money, so I already like you just for that.”

Lauren laughed. “I hope Elliot didn’t give you too much of an earful about your horse?” 

Ginny smiled as the two women walked across the garden; she was pleased to have had a few moments with Lauren before Harry and Ron barged into the conversation. “It was the first thing he asked when we got here and he heard my voice, so I conjured it for him. But it’s not a spell that’s easy to do repeatedly, so Charlie’s giving him a horse ride instead!” She turned back to Lauren. “It really is good to meet you … how are you doing with the mob? We’re lovely, I know, but exhausting! We should arrange some quieter get-togethers for you over the next few weeks. And don’t be afraid to sneak off when you need to; Percy and Hermione know all the good hiding spots, though you have to be careful that Hermione and Fred aren’t shagging in them.” Lauren laughed loudly as Ginny rolled her eyes and then waved her arm as they walked a bit further from the house. “Or, even better, get Dad to show you his shed…” 

Lauren turned her head to see what Ginny was indicating. “Oh, gosh, what a lovely cabin!” Lauren stared at Arthur’s shed as if it was a hand-crafted pine lodge. Which it was, to anyone who wasn’t affected by the charms that were designed to make it look old and tatty. “It’s beautiful! May I see inside?” Ginny turned around to look at her mother and both seemed a bit confused as Lauren walked towards the door, which was ajar. She spotted Bill and Arthur, who had slipped in there unnoticed for a few minutes of peace and quiet in their armchairs while Molly was inside and before they went on cooking duty. “Oh, look at you both; you’re all set up in here … it’s fabulous!”

Inside his now not-so-secret haven, Arthur looked horrified. Clearly, his concealing charms didn’t work on muggles, or perhaps taking down all the anti-muggle charms had affected the spellwork that made his shed look old and tatty when it came to Lauren. Either way, Lauren was in danger of revealing his secret to the rest of his family. Who already knew all about it, but Arthur didn’t know that. 

“What, this old place?!” he scoffed in a self-deprecating manner, as Hermione ran over, took a confused Lauren’s hand and led her quickly through the shed door, where she hid Lauren’s gasp upon seeing the well-appointed interior up close by coughing loudly. 

The rest of the Weasleys valiantly pretended not to notice but Ginny, Fred and George were barely able to conceal their laughter as Arthur hurried the two women into the shed and he, Bill and Hermione quickly explained the situation to Lauren. A few minutes later, Lauren and Hermione emerged and a grin appeared on Lauren’s face as Hermione quietly added the punchline to the story and explained that, actually, the rest of the family did know about Arthur’s secret hideaway, but they all pretended not to. She, Arthur and Bill could see the real shed only because they held their own key.

“It’s nice to know I have one skill that you all don’t,” Lauren joked quietly, eliciting a grin from Ginny.

“I know you have lots,” Charlie said, coming up behind them with Elliot still on his shoulders. “We just haven’t sussed them all out yet!”

“Is it our turn to meet you now?” Lauren turned to see who owned the soft, lilting voice and was greeted with a smile that she knew she would never forget.

“Luna?” she asked, hoping she had correctly remembered Molly’s introductions.

“At your service,” answered the younger woman, stepping towards Lauren and giving her a gentle hug. “And this is Ron, and Harry.” Lauren shook hands with them both, noting that they seemed a bit less confident about hugging her than the older men. She imagined it was an age thing. “We’ve already met Elliot,” Luna continued, smiling at the little boy. 

“It’s very nice to meet you,” said Harry. 

“Same,” added Ron, with a nod. It was immediately clear to Lauren that these two might take a bit more time to get to know than some of the Weasleys. She was happy to take that time but it suddenly struck her that she knew very little about the two young men standing before her. There was an awkward pause as she looked at both of them. She had no idea what either of them did for a living and neither of them were carrying anything that could spark a conversation. She spotted that Harry had an oddly-shaped scar on his forehead and wondered if there was an interesting story behind how he had acquired it, but then rejected that thought. He had probably just banged his head on something; scalp injuries always bled a lot, she knew, so presumably they were more likely to scar.

As the silence hung over them and Ron shuffled from one foot to the other while Luna seemed to just gaze into space, Lauren felt that she had to say something. “Do you know,” she began, “I’m so sorry, but I don’t even know where to begin. I mean, I don’t know what we might have in common to talk about. It seems a bit corny to talk about the weather,” she waved her hand at the cloudless sky, “but I don’t know anything about you…” She trailed off, not sure what to say next.

“That’s bloody marvellous,” said Ron. Lauren looked at him warily, completely unclear as to whether he was joking or not and ready to apologise and explain her words in more depth. But then she saw Harry’s face. A huge grin was spreading across it.

“It really is,” Harry said, with an exuberant nod that reminded Lauren of an excited puppy.

“It is?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Ron. Because in our world, everyone knows who we are, and they always ask us the same things, and it’s really boring. It’s bloody marvellous that you don’t. We can tell you the things we want you to know. I’m Ron,” he said again, “and I like chess and chocolate frogs,” he grinned. 

“Chocolate!” Lauren pointed at him. “We have chocolate in common,” she said, subconsciously reaching to touch her pocket, which still held the bag of truffles that Fred had brought her. “What a great start! I’ve not tried a chocolate frog yet, but I would very much like to. Would you swap me one for some muggle chocolate next time we see each other?”

“Absolutely,” Ron said, looking very pleased with himself.

“And I’m Harry,” said Harry, with a nod of his head, “and I love treacle tart and pizza. Hermione’s our other best friend and when she and Fred have their pizza night I am going to make sure I get there first, because this lot,” he waved his hand randomly around the garden, “eat everything and you have to be early.”

“Yeah,” said Ron, his eyes wide. “And Harry and I are training to be aurors.”

“That’s a sort of wizarding police,” Harry supplied. 

“Oh really?” Lauren was surprised. These two didn’t look like they would have been candidates for the police force in the non-magical world, but perhaps things were different in their world. “I’d like to hear more about that sometime, though I must admit I’m a bit full of information at the moment.”

“Must be weird,” said Ron, and Lauren smiled, raising her eyebrows a bit, but before she could reply, she heard Luna’s ethereal voice again.

“I think Arthur’s ready to start cooking anyway,” Luna said. “He didn’t like that we were focusing on his secret space, and he’s hoping to distract everyone with sausages." She turned to Lauren “You might want to have a break, I think. Charlie’s made you a quiet spot and he’s heading over to collect you.”

Lauren touched Luna’s arm, telling the newcomers again how lovely it was to meet them and explaining that, yes, she would love a bit of quiet time with Charlie and Elliot. “Nothing personal,” she added.

“Of course,” said Harry. “Lots of people. We understand. You should take a break while you can. Plenty of time to chat over lunch and after.” Lauren was grateful for his insight, and also slightly surprised by it. Perhaps she had underestimated the dark-haired young man. 

“I’ll get you some chocolate frogs,” said Ron.

“For pizza night, if not before,” Harry grinned.

“That sounds lovely,” Lauren said, turning her head as Charlie approached with Elliot holding his hand.

“Shall we sit for a bit, love?” Charlie asked, pointing behind Lauren at a quilt that Molly had spread under a tree with a few toys for Elliot to play with.

“That would be lovely.” She turned back to Ron and Harry. “You said you’ve met Elliot already?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Ron, smiling at his nephew. 

“But as we didn’t produce a horse, he wasn’t very interested,” Harry added, and then grinned again. “Honestly, there’s loads of time and we quite like not being the centre of attention for a change. Really.” 

Lauren wasn’t sure how to answer that, until she remembered that Molly had said she needed to explain some things and alluded to Harry playing a significant part in that, so she simply smiled, nodded in farewell and allowed Charlie to lead her over to the quilt.

“Can I help Gandad?” Elliot asked, and Charlie looked to Lauren for guidance.

“Do you think your dad would be OK with that?” she asked him, not knowing whether Arthur would welcome Elliot’s help or find it annoying.

“I think he’d be delighted but there’s only one way to find out for sure; come on then, mate…” Charlie scooped Elliot up and walked over to the barbeque area. After a quick conversation, Elliot was hoisted by Charlie up onto Bill’s shoulders from where he happily watched Arthur and Percy turning meat while holding onto Bill’s ponytail. Bill, Fleur and Penelope were helping Molly to bring salads, bread and what seemed like a whole kitchen full of crockery and cutlery outside. Lauren watched in amazement as Fleur and Penelope pointed their wands at the table and benches, which grew longer in front of her eyes.

Charlie jogged back and then bounced down onto the quilt beside Lauren. 

“So now you’ve met everyone, I think?”

“I have. And they’re gorgeous, Charlie. You have the most wonderful family…”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, knowing how very lucky they were to all still be together after the war had taken so many. “I really do…”

Lauren lay back on a large cushion which Molly had left next to the toys, allowing her eyes to lose focus and gaze through the branches of the tree above them. “It’s beautiful here. Like another world…”

Charlie reached for her hand. “A world you would like to visit again?” He couldn’t keep the hope out of his voice.

Lauren rolled over onto her side to face him, realising in that moment the extent to which her uncertainty was affecting him. “Fuck, yes. God, I never wanted you to think I was in doubt about spending time with your family, Charlie. The thing I’m unsure about is which world will be my base. They’re both different, and my experience with the road this morning was another confirmation that I pretty much need to choose one or the other. Not to mention the distance between the two; your mum has invited me over to learn some things from her, but it’s a long drive to do regularly, so that needs to be thought through…”

She didn’t mention the earlier conversation she had had with Molly about Elliot and his magic, and she didn’t know why. Maybe she just needed a bit more space to process it, she thought. She knew that, if she gave Charlie a ‘yes’, that would be it. They had been clear with each other during their time in Romania that they weren’t looking for more, but things had changed. Charlie had been equally clear that he wanted more now. If she agreed, he would be all in; committed to her forever. Hermione had alluded to that when they had talked last week and it was further confirmed by every interaction she had with Charlie’s family. That kind of promise was something that Lauren had shied away from since she had lost her parents and yet, as she tipped her head and watched Fred and Hermione kissing in one corner of the garden and George and Angelina cuddling in another, all so in love and so enjoying each other’s company, she wondered if it wasn’t perhaps her who was missing out.

“Tell me more about what you want, Charlie.” She turned and looked at him, her eyes soft. “I still need time to think about it, but I’d really like to get a clear idea of what you’d like from me … can you give me that?”

“OK…” He thought for a moment, and then lifted his hand to rest it on her waist. “This OK?”

"Mmmm hmmm,” Lauren hummed in contentment. “It’s nice.”

“I meant what I said last night, sweets. I want to make a life with you. I want the three of us to be together, as a family. I know Mum and Dad would let me stay here but I’d love to move in with you and Elliot until we decide whether we want to stay there or move somewhere else together. Even if you don’t want me in your bed, I could pitch a tent outside or something.”

Lauren began to protest. Yes, she knew he had spent many nights in a tent – that was his life when they had met – but she couldn’t make him sleep in the garden.

“I’m just saying that I want you to have the option of having me there as Elliot’s dad even if you don’t want me there as your man.” It was painful to say, but Charlie knew it was only fair to be as clear as she herself always was. “I know that this has messed up Elliot being able to go to playgroup…” he paused to check the word, and Lauren nodded, “and stuff, and that will impact your work. And,” Charlie continued to watch Lauren to gauge her reaction, “if it would be alright with you, my dream would be to be a stay at home dad for Elliot for a few months, so I can replace those things and get to know him … catch up with what I’ve missed while we work things out.” Her face was soft, and Charlie was relieved to see her nod and smile at that idea. 

“That would solve one of my immediate concerns,” Lauren said. “It’s been worrying me for a couple of days. He goes there on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings, from nine til one and that’s when I get a lot of my work done. Sometimes one of the other mums brings him home for me, which gives me an extra hour or so, because they come via the park…”

“I can do that,” said Charlie. “We can go to the park, or come here sometimes – which Mum will love – and there are loads of things we can do to keep us out of the house and let you work, love.”

“That could be good,” Lauren said. “I’m not ready to give up my career yet.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Charlie agreed. “Although,” he added quickly, “I can totally pay my way while I take some time off, and then get work that fits with where we want to live. I’m not expecting you to support me in any way.” He looked into Lauren’s eyes. “But separate to all of that, I’d love to be your man. In my dream, love, when you’ve got used to it all, I want to be yours. I want to spend long days here with you and the rest of our family in the summer, and cosy up inside in the winter, and to one day make more babies with you. I know you need time to think about that bit but, as you asked, that’s what I want...”

“Thank you for telling me. I am thinking about the last bit a lot, I promise,” Lauren assured him. “And I’m working really hard on trying to make that a possibility in my head. As soon as I get there, I’ll let you know. Or if I realise I can’t get there, I’ll let you know that too.” She turned to face him, her voice earnest. “I promise I’ll not string you along, Charlie, and we’ll always parent Elliot together no matter what I decide.”

“Mmmmm…” Charlie didn’t trust himself to answer that directly. He wanted her in his life so badly; not just as a co-parent and a friend, but as a lover, a partner … a wife, even, if she could see her way to going there with him. But he knew he had to wait. The difference between their worlds was so big, and he couldn’t force her to cross all the way into his unless or until she was ready to make that leap. Charlie wanted to allow himself to take some hope from Lauren’s words, but he didn’t dare. But he was a patient man. He had loved this woman from afar and without knowing if he would ever even see her again for three years now. Now that she was back in his life and he could see her smile, touch her hand and hear her words, he could be patient for as long as he needed to be.


	36. Announcements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of this chapter is for Silent_Hi11, who asked what menopause was. I said I would ask Molly, Lauren or Hermione to explain, so here we go…

“For the second time of asking,” Arthur shouted, with the help of a sonorous charm, “do you all have a drink? And if so, please raise your glasses with me and formally welcome Lauren and Elliot to the Weasley family!”

Even with a sonorous charm there would have been no chance of hearing anything above the cheering and clapping that followed. Lauren beamed in joy as she looked around the table and met the eyes of those raising their glasses to her. She toasted them in return, acknowledging their words and thanking them for the welcome, and Elliot clapped in glee from atop a fat cushion which Fred had conjured for him. 

“OK,” Arthur called again, waving his wand to apply a spell that Molly had picked up from the house elves at Hogwarts when she was helping them clear up after the final battle. It moved all of the food onto the table instantly. “Please help yourselves to food!”

Later, Lauren would realise that that was the turning point at which she had begun to not be surprised at the magic that was happening around her. It was the first time that she hadn’t found herself gasping in shock, and she took the appearance of food on the table in her stride. She graciously allowed Charlie, Hermione and Fred to summon food, levitate plates in her direction and to move them on when she had selected what she wanted. Lauren recognised this as an important step in her acceptance of the culture that she was in, and then smiled to herself at the way in which she tended, even off work and at the weekend, to apply her academic mind to her experiences of everyday life. Not that there was anything very everyday about the life she had been living since the previous Wednesday.

She and Charlie helped Elliot to pick some food for his plate as well, giving him small bites of just a few things so he could find out what he liked, and then she lifted her fork to dive into her burger and salad. “This all looks wonderful,” she announced, and several people agreed with her.

“Mum and Dad do good barbeques,” Ron told her. “It’s the only thing I write down, so I don’t miss them!”

“Ron’s the Weasley family foodie, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Fred announced. Ron looked at him for a long minute, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. 

“Now that we’ve settled down and welcomed Lauren and Elliot,” said Arthur, deliberately stepping in before Ron could finish deciding “does anyone have any news or announcements? I know Molly would like to say something, but what about the rest of you?”

“I do,” said Fred. “Some of you know, but not all. Just to say that my lovely wife…”

“And my lovely wife-in-law…” added George.

“Indeed,” said Fred, “is going to be the new Head of Planning at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes!”

Several people cheered, as Charlie turned to Lauren and asked if she understood. She nodded, reminding him that Fred had told her all about the shop over their dinner on the Friday evening. He made a quick thumbs up sign and Lauren touched his arm, thanking him for his thoughtfulness.

“So she starts tomorrow and it won’t be full time, as we have the Kingsley stuff and some other things going on as well, but we just wanted you to know.”

A few seconds of silence followed and then Percy and Penelope caught each other’s eyes and nodded before Percy stood up. “We don’t want a fuss and you can do hugging later, if you must, but I asked Penelope to marry me last night, and she said yes. And please, please no fuss, especially as we don’t want to overshadow meeting Lauren and Elliot, but we just wanted you all to know.”

“Well that’s marvellous news, son,” Arthur said. “Let Molly and I do the congratulating for all of us.” Pushing his chair back, he stood to shake Percy’s hand and give Penelope a kiss on the cheek, as Molly engulfed them both in a hug and the whole family offered a quieter round of congratulations that better suited Percy and Penelope’s style.

“I can’t beat that,” said Ginny. “Anyone else?”

“Well,” said Molly, sitting back down in her chair and taking a fortifying sip of pumpkin juice. She had been planning this all morning, but she still wasn’t certain how she would explain it. “I need to announce that I am menopausal.” She paused for a few seconds to let that sink in. “And as such, I reserve the right to be even more cross and shouty than usual, and I hope that you will all live with it and not take it personally. There will,” she looked directly at Fred and George, “be no pranks played upon me until further notice, because I do not have the capacity to deal with them, but any work that you do to create items for witches at my stage of life will be rewarded with pie and my ringing endorsement of your products to all my friends. Who I can assure you are a worthy target market with plenty of disposable income, as their ungrateful offspring have all just left home too.”

“Wicked.” Fred and George looked at each other and then at Hermione, who bowed her head slightly, so as not to give away her response to their emotions and her own amusement at how well Molly had picked up the twins’ business terminology.

“Noted,” she smiled when she looked up again. “We’ll get onto it and have a nice basket of soothing and calming things available for Christmas. And perhaps I can arrange a private testing party with some free samples so you and your friends can give us your opinions.”

“Ohhhhh, that sounds lovely,” Molly sighed, remembering George’s glitterbubble gift from last year. Arthur smiled broadly. He made a mental note to visit Hermione in the shop the next week to offer some suggestions.

“What’s menopause?” Ron asked Ginny, who turned around to look at him and Harry. They both shrugged.

Hermione sighed, turning to Lauren. “One thing to bear in mind for the future is that wizarding school is pretty rubbish at teaching the birds and the bees, or anything related to reproductive health, come to that.”

Lauren nodded, looking at Ron and then Hermione before she spoke to Molly. “Do you want to answer that, or can we help?”

“Oh please do,” said Molly, as Hermione spread her arm in a ‘be my guest’ gesture and smiled at Lauren, inviting the older woman to start. Molly sat back in her chair. She was going to enjoy this.

“In a physical sense, menopause,” said Lauren, carefully putting down her burger and wiping her fingers on a napkin, “is the name given to the time in a woman’s life when she stops being able to get pregnant and give birth. Her hormone levels change, usually over the course of a few years. It’s perfectly healthy and normal.”

She paused. Ron and Harry appeared to have understood. She decided not to look around and see how many more Weasleys were in need of the information. Instead, she turned to Hermione, who was still smiling.

“The word is Greek,” Hermione added, “and, literally translated, it means the end of a woman’s monthly cycles.” She laughed as she saw Bill and Charlie smirking at the startled expression that had suddenly appeared on Ron’s face and gestured to Lauren to continue. Luna, on the other hand, was enraptured. The motherless woman had clearly not heard about this before and was delighted to be learning about it now.

“Some women experience physical challenges, like sleeplessness. Some find their heart sometimes races or feels like it’s skipping beats or they feel hot for no reason, especially if they feel emotional or if they eat or drink certain things. That can make them feel anxious and very stressed, and that can cause what looks like an over-response to things that wouldn’t normally seem stressful.” Charlie nodded, now understanding more about what had happened the previous day. He looked across the table at his mum, whispering an apology, and she nodded, feeling another wave of the very warmth that Lauren was describing and not wanting too much attention drawn to her. Quietly, she cast another cooling charm over herself.

Meanwhile, Lauren’s explanation continued. “Sometimes menopausal women feel really emotional, but without always knowing why. In a broader sense, though, many people consider it a … well, a time of positive social and even spiritual change as well. At least amongst thinking people in my social circle and in many non-magical cultures; I’m not sure about in the magical world?” She looked at Molly, a bit uncertainly, and was rewarded with reassuring smile. Now feeling cooler again, Molly was enjoying this.

“Here, too, I think, to some extent,” Hermione said softly. 

“Well,” Lauren continued. “So in a more general sense we could say that menopause marks the time in a woman’s life when…” she trailed off and looked to see if Elliot was listening. He was. Intently. From his cushion in between Charlie and Fred. “When she can stop giving a fig about what anyone else thinks. Many women feel liberated and they become much stronger in their own … well, energy, I suppose. They speak their minds more. Often, women start doing things they always wanted to do but weren’t able to before, for whatever reason.”

“Bloody hell,” said Ron, who had not paid attention to whether Elliot was listening. Fred chuckled, and George waved his wand, sending a hex which had the effect of flicking Ron’s ear.

“Ow!” Ron looked at George crossly, holding his hand to the side of his head. Elliot was delighted with this performance, and clapped his hands together, to which George responded with a bow.

“Thank you, George,” said Molly. “Young ears, Ron!” she reprimanded her youngest son, tilting her head towards Elliot.

“But you’ve always spoken your mind!” Ron noted.

“Indeed,” replied his mother. “And I shall continue to enjoy doing so.”

“Do you think McGonagall has the menopause too?” Ron asked Harry quietly.

“Oh, I should think so,” Harry nodded. 

“It’s not a disease, Ronald,” Hermione said. “Lauren’s already explained that it’s a perfectly normal, natural, healthy stage of life. It’s just that the physical transition can be challenging for a few months or years as well as advantageous.”

“Do you think Hermione’s going to get it too?” Ron’s eyes had grown larger as he whispered again to Harry. That time it was Fred who leaned over and flicked a hex, but harder than George’s. But before he could add his own reprimand, Hermione spoke.

“I should certainly hope so, one day,” she told him. “But I’d like to raise some babies of my own first, if you wouldn’t mind allowing me a couple of decades to do that.”

“Really?” asked Fred, moving his body close to hers and taking her face into his hand.

“Yes, really,” she said, stroking his face and sending love through their bond, making George smile goofily as well. “You know that, silly. One day soon. Just not tomorrow.” As she leaned over and kissed Fred’s lips, Harry and Ron groaned in unison, feigning disgust and then laughing together as if they had regressed to being third years.

Lauren was looking at Molly, not sure whether to carry on or stop. “Do please continue, Lauren dear,” said Molly, who was more ready than ever to adopt the muggle woman, or at least promise her a lifetime’s supply of babysitting and chocolate cake. 

“I think I’ve said most of what I can. But no, it’s not something you get, like a disease,” Lauren said to Ron. Hermione was impressed by the level of patience she was able to display in the face of his inane questioning. “Think of it as a journey … something a woman experiences, or goes through. And I think the biggest, most important thing is for a woman’s family and friends to know how to best support her.”

There was a short pause before Bill took the lead. “So how can we best support you, Mum?”

Molly beamed. “If you all took what Lauren and Hermione said on board and gave me a bit of extra leeway, that would be great. All the things I said when we sat down,” she looked back at Fred and George, “about no pranks.” They nodded, knowing she was serious. “I just don’t have the physical tolerance. Even small surprises or noises make my heart race, and it’s horrible. I don’t mean to be extra grumpy either, but I wake at 3am these days and I often can’t get back to sleep.”

“If you ever need a rest from cooking, Molly,” said Fleur, “we can take turns?”

Ron couldn’t help himself. “That’s a point. Will we still be having Sunday dinners?”

“Well I’m glad you’ve got your priorities straight, Ron!” He looked at Hermione, not sure how she was intending the echo of his own words when they were back at school. But she had heard Molly’s chuckle and she was smiling at him. He grinned back. “Well whatever your mum decides, we’re all very happy to help. And, in fact, Fred and I,” she held her husband even closer, “and George and Ange,” she smiled at the nearby pair, “would like to invite you all to ours for a pizza night on Friday, if you’re all free. Celebrate the end of my first week, and as a bit of a thank you for all your help with the wedding.”

There was a general murmur of excitement.

“And me?” Elliot asked. Hermione only heard him because he was close enough.

“Yes, of course, if you’d like to come?”

“I like pizza.” Then his face became a bit more serious. “Is Graham coming?”

Fred leaned down towards the little boy. “Yes, but he’ll probably stay in his bedroom. Otherwise he might get pizza sauce in his fur.” Fred shook himself, pulling a funny face, and Elliot laughed. “You can visit him there,” he promised, before turning back to Hermione and smiling in happiness at the way his family had responded to their idea. Hermione put her hand on his thigh, which immediately took Fred’s attention. He wondered how long it would be before they could sneak off somewhere and celebrate their three-week anniversary in the customary fashion and began to whisper words to that effect into her ear.

Arthur, realising that Molly was keen for the attention to move on elsewhere, asked Harry and Ron how their auror training was going. The two of them dove into a lengthy description of what they had been doing that week, and most of the rest of the family were glad of the chance to listen to tales of their exploits while they ate. Elliot, however, had finished the food that Lauren and Charlie had put on his plate and was keen to try a sausage. But Fred was occupied with whispering to Hermione and Charlie was just as busy helping Lauren to more salad. So, having watched other family members use their wands to summon food and to pass it to each other, Elliot decided to try it himself. Reaching for Fred’s wand, which he had lain beside him on the bench in order to hold Hermione with both arms, Elliot lifted it and pointed it at the sausages.

“Atchoo sausages” he shouted, making the wand move in the same pattern that he had seen others use to bring things to them.

The effect was immediate. The plate of sausages lifted off the table and began to hover in the air uncertainly before moving jerkily towards the little boy, who was still holding Fred’s wand. Fred gently disarmed him and Ron and Harry gave a practical demonstration of their auror training as they simultaneously grabbed their wands and stopped the motion of the plate, although they couldn’t prevent most of the sausages from continuing their journey. George and Hermione managed to redirect half of them back onto the plate, which Ron was now using as a goal, while Charlie scooped Elliot into his lap. He, Elliot and Lauren, however, still ended up being showered by the remaining sausages, which pleased Elliot, concerned Charlie – who was worried how Lauren would take this development – and, after a few moments of surprise, made Lauren laugh so hard that tears of mirth began to run down her face. As it dawned on her that she no longer had to live with uncertainty, they turned into tears of hope and relief. She looked at Molly for confirmation and Molly nodded vigorously, know exactly what Lauren was asking.

“Not even accidental,” Molly said. “I’d say that was pretty deliberate!”

“Charlie,” Lauren said, turning to him. “We made a little wizard.”

More applause broke out amongst the assembled Weasleys and their partners, and Elliot was delighted with the effect his ‘spell’ had had. While Fleur, who was on Lauren’s other side, helped Lauren pick off the sausages from her dress and began to magically remove the grease stains, much to Lauren’s delight, Arthur gave Charlie a knowing look. Charlie understood exactly what his father was trying to tell him. He looked at Lauren for confirmation and then spoke.

“Elliot,” he said quietly and seriously to his son, making sure he had the little boy’s attention. “That was very clever, and we’re all very happy to see that you can do magic, but you’re not supposed to use other people’s wands. Please say sorry to Fred and promise me you won’t take anyone’s wand again?”

Elliot looked sad. “Sorry Fred,” he said, without looking up.

Fred leaned down and gave Elliot a noisy kiss on the top of his head, his big hand stroking Elliot’s back as he did. “It’s alright, mate. You didn’t know. But from now on you need to wait until you get your own wand. Then you can learn to do magic properly.”

“I’ll get my own stick?” Elliot immediately turned to his father, eyes wide. This was such a potentially exciting development that Elliot needed to ensure that he had heard correctly.

“When you’re old enough,” Charlie told him, with a glance at Fred. “You need to be eleven, and that’s quite a long while.”

Elliot considered that, but he couldn’t really compute that length of time. “Will Mummy get a stick too?”

Ah. That was going to be trickier, and Charlie hadn’t planned for that. Fleur and Lauren looked at each other, each wondering how Charlie would deal with Elliot’s question. Lauren quietly thanked Fleur for cleaning her dress and then turned to watch Charlie’s response.

“No,” he replied, after a few moments thought. “Mummy doesn’t need a wand.”

“Why?” Elliot asked.

“Well, look at her,” Charlie said, and Elliot did, along with the rest of the family. With all those eyes on her, Lauren felt even more grateful for Fleur’s efforts at reinstating her dress to its previous state. Charlie put his arm around Lauren and drew her close. “She grew you into a person in her tummy and she made mummy milk to feed you herself, didn’t she?” Elliot nodded in agreement. “And she makes yummy food. She takes care of you and makes up stories and she’s very clever and teaches people important things.” He thought, and then his eyes got larger to emphasise his next words. “And she can drive the car and she gets us sweeties to eat when we’re in it.” Elliot nodded again. “I can’t drive the car,” Charlie told his little boy, although he wasn’t nearly as sad about that fact as he made himself look. “So Mummy doesn’t need a wand,” he said quietly, looking into Lauren’s eyes. “She can do magic without one.”

Several people found they needed to look down at their food after he had said that, or rub a bit of dust out of their eye. Molly grasped Arthur’s hand tightly.

“What is important, though,” he looked at his son again, to ensure that had Elliot’s full attention, “is that, when you’re old enough to have a wand and learn how to use it, you use your kind of magic to protect and look after Mummy, just as she’s always used her kind of magic to protect and look after you. And I’ll do the same.”

Elliot nodded solemnly in agreement.

“Alright, Charlie … yes,” said Lauren quietly, and Charlie turned to her.

“Yes to what, love?” he asked.

She reached to touch his arm. “Yes to everything you asked for on the blanket, lovely. Yes, you can move in with us while we figure things out, like where we want to live. Yes, you can be Elliot’s stay-at-home dad and … yes, you can be mine and I’ll be yours and we can all be a family,” she said. 

“Really?” Charlie’s eyes were wide and his surprised face made Lauren smile and nod, reassuring him of her words. Angelina gestured to Fred from across the table, indicating that he should lift Elliot onto his own lap, where Elliot could finish eating the sausage that he had summoned and leave Charlie free to take Lauren into his arms and thoroughly kiss her. This time there wasn’t a cheer, but a soft ‘awwww’ and the murmur of chatter as several people turned to each other and began to speculate on what exactly Lauren meant and what was going to happen. Hermione and Fred were the only people who knew of Charlie’s intentions as far as his job was concerned, although Bill and Fleur had a good idea of what was going on as well.

Finally breaking away, Charlie tucked Lauren firmly into his side and turned back to face the rest of his family. “If it’s not too late in the meal,” he said, “I have an announcement of my own.”

Everyone put their food or cutlery down and waited for him to continue.

“I’m coming home,” he said. “I’m going to hand in my notice at the reserve, and Lauren and Elliot and I are going to be together. As a family. I’m coming home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, inspired by the votes for a Charlie/Lauren prequel, I have uploaded the first two chapters of "Charlie and Lauren's Romanian summer" today :D 
> 
> P.S. No, I'm not stopping this one, don't worry! This will continue AND you get a prequel. So you can all stop panicking, but the messages about how much you love it are lovely, so please don't stop sending those! :-)


	37. Sunday lunch chatting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the continued support and happy review comments and I LOVE that so many of you have come along for the ride with "Charlie and Lauren's Romanian Summer". If you've not yet found it, it's a prequel to this and tells the story of how Charlie and Lauren met. I've managed to get two chapters up so far and am hoping to edit and upload another today, but this story (Fremione and the Weasleys) remains my priority, not least because so many people are telling me how much they love having something happy to read each Tuesday :D

A plethora of questions followed Lauren’s declaration and Charlie’s announcement, and it took them most of the main course of their family meal to respond to the ones they could and defer those that they didn’t know the answer to themselves. Charlie had already got the rest of the week off, they explained and, because Lauren was worried about the ramifications of Elliot sharing information about the wizarding world with the muggle children at his playgroup, Lauren would pop to speak to the organisers first thing the next morning and explain that Elliot’s dad had returned from overseas and so the little boy would be staying at home for a while.

“In truth,” she said quietly, watching to ensure that Elliot was still chatting with Fred and not listening to her words, “I don’t know whether he’ll go back at all, but I don’t want to arouse suspicion or have all the other parents heading over to question the speed of my change of heart. So I think that’s the best way to go… For this week, anyway. We'll have to wait and see what will happen with Charlie needing to work out a notice period...”

Molly looked between the two of them. “I’m sure there are ways of having a foot in both worlds.” She looked apologetic. “I’m just not sure what they are. All I needed to do was to teach mine how to behave when in public, but there are plenty of people around who can help you. Penelope’s mum,” she indicated the blonde witch, who smiled and nodded, “and we’ll introduce you to Minerva as well. I know she’ll be able to help you, love.”

“We were good at behaving in public, weren’t we, Forge?”

All eyes turned to George, knowing that it was his turn next.

“Oh, I’d say we were excellent, Gred!”

“There was nothing excellent about the playstation incident, was there, boys?” Arthur asked, and several of the Weasleys laughed.

Hermione turned to Fred, who was pulling a face. “What did you do?”

He grinned down at her. “It wasn’t so much what we did that was the problem…”

“No,” continued George. “It was what we said…”

“It doesn’t even have any trains!” Molly said, in an imitation of the indignant Weasley twins. 

“What kind of station doesn’t have trains, Gred?” Arthur continued, before Molly took over again.

“It must be rubbish to be a muggle, Forge!” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, happy that she was able to laugh at the memory now. It hadn’t felt so funny at the time, though. “In his loudest voice,” she said to Hermione, “and, as we all know, Fred has a VERY loud voice.” She waved her arm to illustrate the reach of his words. “Right across the shop they heard him!”

“We had to pretend that they were rehearsing for a play,” Bill told Lauren, who was laughing. 

“It was either that or tell everyone they were a bit slow,” said Charlie, pulling a face and making Elliot laugh.

Hermione turned to Fred. “You do realise,” she said, “that your mother is going to be begging the Gods to make our children from the same mould as you and George, just so she can sit back and watch you get your just desserts?”

“Realise it, love? I’m counting on it!” Fred raised his eyebrows at the mention of children and Hermione’s eyes gleamed at his meaning. “Bring on the tiny pranking Mineys, that’s what I say,” he continued, his hand sneaking to her tummy to remind her that he was more than ready for that step, “and then we can really have some fun!”

Hermione shook her head at him, laughing, and then caught Angelina’s eyes across the table. She was surprised to see a look in them that she couldn’t quite read. George looked a bit wistful as well, and Hermione made a mental note to ensure that nothing interfered with this week’s Wednesday date night that the four of them shared. She wanted to find out what was going on for the pair.

“Well as Lauren needs the space to work,” Molly was saying to Charlie, wanting to bring them back to the earlier conversation, “you and Elliot are welcome to come here anytime you like. I don’t want you thinking you have to roam the streets when Lauren’s working!”

“That’d be great, Mum,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll visit often, thanks.”

“You’re welcome to come to the shop too,” said George. “We’ve been thinking of making a play area where people can bring tiny folk when they’re in Diagon Alley, so you and Elliot could help with that, if you like? You won’t be in our way, anyway, if you just want to come and hang out; we love company.”

“Oh good idea, Forge,” said Fred. “A free design consultant, though we could pay in ice cream, if you like?”

“Oh Gods,” said Lauren, with a grin which grew even wider when several people turned in surprise to hear her use the wizarding exclamation. “Well,” she laughed, with an exaggerated shrug of her arms, “I’m working on fitting in!” Leaning across Charlie to address Fred, she gently poked him in the chest. “If you fill my men with sugar every day, I’ll be sending them straight back to you. I’ll swap them for Hermione; she and I can have quiet sewing time and you lot can all bounce around the Alley…” Lauren raised her eyebrows at Fred, who guffawed. 

Ginny leaned towards Harry and whispered, “I told you … she’s fab. Good work, Charlie.”

Harry squeezed her hand. He liked Lauren too; she reminded him a bit of Hermione, but she was funnier and, like Fred, more apt to speak before she thought. He, like several of the others, was feeling relieved that Molly had accepted her into the fold so quickly. 

“I’ve just realised something,” said Charlie, more loudly than he would have done had he considered who he was sitting next to. “I’ll be moving in with you AND your lovely hair stuff! Do you still have the same kind?” He looked excited.

Lauren laughed. “Of course,” she said, “touching his face. I still think of you when I use it…” She turned towards the rest of his family to explain. “I introduced Charlie to ‘leave-in’ hair conditioner when we were in Romania,” she said. “But the first time he used it, he misunderstood. I had to send him back to the shower to wash it out again!”

Several people laughed, but Ginny’s voice was louder than all of them. “Merlin’s bum cheeks! Was that you?” she exclaimed. “You,” she pointed at Lauren in accusation, but her tone was light and it was clear that she was joking, “created a hair product monster, and not only that … you created a hair product monster who created another hair product monster,” she pointed at Bill, who looked a bit sheepish, “and my conditioner has never been safe since! I have to hide it when they come home!”

Lauren held up her hands, laughing. “I’m so sorry,” she said, turning to look at Charlie and putting her hand on his chest. “From now on, I’ll supply him with his own. I can’t take responsibility for Bill, though, but we’ll keep it in mind when his birthday comes around!”

“Oh Georgie,” said Fred, in a higher-pitched voice than usual, causing Hermione to close her eyes and bite her bottom lip in anticipation of what she knew would be coming next. She could see the picture in his mind rather clearly. “Do you think we could create something that would make our hair as soft as Charlie’s? For the Wonder Witch line?”

“I don’t know Freddie, but we can only try. How much would I love hair like Billiam though. So soft and shiny…” George ran his fingers through his hair as he spoke, leaving it even messier than before.

“So flyaway,” Fred tossed his short hair, failing to make it move so deciding to demonstrate by borrowing Hermione’s instead, “and bouncy…” Hermione simply raised her eyebrows at him as he flicked her hair into the air, and he returned the gesture. Both of them knew exactly what was going on in the other’s mind, despite the twins’ joking; they were hoping to get away for a bit after lunch and re-consummate their bond. It was almost exactly three weeks since they had bonded, here in this very garden, and the pull between them was often strong on Sundays.

“So …. Oh, I know,” said George excitedly, still focused on hair products. “We could get them to do the adverts for it.”

“Oh, I can see it now,” Fred continued, swinging his leg so he could stand just behind the bench and adopting a pose with his arm held in front of him, as if about to duel. “Tame your hair, it could read in big sexy letters, and then we could have a picture of Charlie on the bottle in just a pair of shorts with a whip and a dragon in the background.”

“You don’t TAME dragons,” said Charlie, a bit indignantly. “I’ve told you this many times. You care for them and keep them.”

“We know that, Charlie Bear,” said Fred with a conciliatory grin, “but that won’t work as well in the marketing blurb. OK, how about,” he looked at George, paused for effect and then waved his hand to indicate another proposed headline, “break the curse of unruly hair, and then we have a picture of Billiam in his leather gear, wand raised, all sexy and broody?”

Ginny almost spat her butterbeer out at that, and even Charlie laughed. 

“Good one, Fred,” said Ron.

Fleur looked at her husband, keen to see how he would respond; Bill simply rolled his eyes with a shake of his head and a smile. He was used to the twins and wasn’t going to rise to their teasing.

“Or,” said Fred, looking at Ron and Harry next, causing the younger wizards to exchange a glance, “we’ll get the wizarding world’s next crack auror team into play...”

“How are you going to spin that then, oh gurus of marketing?” Harry asked.

George looked at Fred. “Auror-a hairyarlis?” he quipped. 

“For hair everywhere?” Fred said, and Hermione’s head dropped into her hands.

“Why do I have to see EVERY mental picture you two share?” she asked. 

“It was Ginny who brought Merlin’s bum cheeks into the conversation, actually!” George pointed out, and Molly groaned, muttering a quick apology to Lauren, who smiled and made a dismissive hand gesture. She wasn’t bothered by this at all. She was really enjoying the family banter, and still finding it hard to believe everything that had happened over the past few days. 

But Hermione was continuing. “I SO have to go and see Minerva,” she said, “and quickly. I can’t cope with being in on every inane thought and mental image!”

“Oh my heart,” said George, clutching his chest in mock horror at the idea that Hermione wouldn’t want to be able to see every image his mind was conjuring.

“Oh your infantile mind,” Angelina corrected, poking him in the side.

“Hermione?” She turned to look at Bill. “If you’re wanting to be able to control the bond connection, there are a few things that I could teach you, if you like. It will have settled enough after three weeks that some simple curse-breaking techniques should help you to get some peace when you need it. I’d be happy to teach you after lunch.”

“Really?” Hermione looked genuinely excited, and Bill chuckled.

“Gods, is it that bad?” He chuckled, and Hermione looked at Fred and put her hand on his face before looking back at his eldest brother.

“I will never regret marrying Fred Granger-Weasley for as long as I shall live, but if you can teach me ways of not seeing every inappropriate mental image that he and Georgie share and ensure that I can have a rest from it sometimes, I shall be so indebted to you that your Christmas stocking will contain a bottle of muggle conditioner for as long as you have hair to condition!”

“Strong words, Hermione,” said George.

“And I mean them, oh adored and adorable husband-in-law,” she retorted, sending a wave of love to George across the bond to ensure he knew that she wasn’t abandoning him. He wouldn’t be able to take her completely severing their connection at the moment, she knew. “Just for a break now and again.”

“Alright then,” Bill said. “If anyone needs Hermione and I after lunch, we’ll be in the orchard practising bond control.” He turned to Ron and Harry. “If you two would like to join, you’re more than welcome … might come in handy in your line of work.” They nodded, pleased to be included. Next, Bill turned to Charlie and Lauren. “Maybe you could lend the gruesome twosome a child to entertain, so they won’t feel the loss of ‘Mione while she’s practising.”

“I think we can do that,” Lauren smiled, looking down at Elliot, who had got down from the bench and was busy under the table.

Excitement over, Molly caught Fred’s eye. “I think some of you may need to sit down and calm down a bit,” she said, and then, turning to Charlie and Lauren as Fred retook his seat with a bow, “and I think you two need some time to catch up.” She was watching Lauren’s face as she spoke. She had been whispering with Arthur while Fred and George had been holding court. “We were wondering … maybe you’d like to leave Elliot here for an afternoon and evening once or twice a week. Even overnight? So the two of you could have time together?”

Several of the Weasleys looked at each other, slightly concerned that Molly was going to overstep in a way that Lauren wasn’t ready for. But Lauren smiled at Charlie before looking back at Molly. “That would be wonderful. I’d love to have some alone time with Charlie.” She put her hand on his side, her thumb stroking the place where she remembered his dragon tattoo had been and Charlie grinned. He loved that she just said what she thought and wanted without worrying about what others thought. 

“We’ll gladly keep him tonight, if you’d like…” This time, it was Arthur who spoke.

“Do you think he’d be OK with that?” Molly asked.

Lauren looked at her. “We need to ask Elliot that, really… Sweetheart,” she touched the little boy to get his attention from the beetle that he was tracking in the grass under the table. “Nanna and Grandad are wondering if you’d like to have a sleepover with them tonight? What do you think about that? Or would you rather come home?”

Elliot shrugged his little arms in a gesture so like the one his mother had made a few minutes before that, across the table, Angelina had to suppress a laugh when she saw it. “I like sleepovers,” he said. “Is Graham coming?”

Molly looked confused. “Who’s Graham?”

George laughed. “He’s a pygmy puff who lives in the flat.”

Fred looked at Molly and lifted his eyebrows. “It’s not out of the question … and he’s pretty low maintenance.” He didn’t want to put anyone on the spot, but everyone was keen to facilitate Charlie and Lauren to have some alone time.

Molly smiled at Elliot. “If Fred says it’s OK and someone will go and get him, then Graham can come and have a sleepover with you. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” shouted Elliot.

Charlie touched his arm. “We could stay til bedtime if you like, and then I could come back and have breakfast with you here in the morning, if that’s OK with Nanna?” 

Molly nodded. “Of course; don’t be silly,” she admonished.

Charlie leaned towards Elliot. “Nanna makes GREAT breakfast,” he winked. “Never say no if Nanna offers to make you breakfast, that’s my advice.” Elliot looked at Molly, who was beaming in pleasure. “And then we could pop home and hug Mummy and then go and have some adventures while she does her work. We’ll take Graham home to his own bed too.”

“OK!” said Elliot. “I still have stories though?”

“Oh,” said Fred, from Elliot’s other side, his eyes widening in an effort to capture the little boy’s attention. “Grandad’s stories are nearly as good as Nanna’s breakfasts.”

Elliot looked at Arthur, who waggled his eyebrows and gave the little boy a wink.

“You don’t have to stay til bedtime if you want to kiss daddy at home,” Elliot told his mum. Lauren’s jaw dropped. She wasn’t often lost for words, but on this occasion she could only think of one thing to say.

“Really?” she asked the tiny wizard. “Um … why’s that then, lovely?”

Elliot nodded. “I like it here and at Fred and Miney’s. And I like having a Daddy. If you kiss him more, like Miney kisses Fred, he’ll stay with us.”

“Oh…” Lauren couldn’t really argue with that, but she was a tiny bit concerned that Elliot felt responsible for the security of her and Charlie’s relationship. Before she could say anything else, though, Charlie lifted Elliot back onto his lap and turned him so they were facing each other.

“OK mate, are you listening hard, because this is important?” Elliot nodded. “Even though it took me a while to find you, we are all your family now and we all love you. And Mummy. And I’m going to live with you and Mummy and you will see everyone else lots no matter what else happens.” Elliot looked around the table and the assembled Weasleys nodded, clapped and murmured in agreement. “We’re all going to keep each other, lovely,” he told the little boy. “We’re yours forever now. And you’re ours.” He nuzzled his face into Elliot’s chest, making his tousled hair fly up at the little boy, who giggled in response. “Do you understand?”

Elliot nodded. Charlie murmured, “good” and then blew a raspberry into his son’s tummy. He leaned towards Elliot’s ear, pretending to whisper but actually speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “I really would like to kiss Mummy more though, if you think she’d like that?”

“Yes, she would. Sometimes she says Charlie when she’s asleep. Before you came to Fred and Miney’s…”

Lauren looked really surprised at that. She hadn’t realised that and wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that information. Charlie swallowed. “We’ll go home by ourselves then. Later on, once you’re settled. Nanna or Grandad can send a message and get us to come back any time you want.”

Elliot patted his chest with the flat of his hand. “It’s OK. I like it here,” he said again.

“You’ll like it even more once Uncle Bill and I have keyed you into the wards,” Fleur told him kindly. Elliot had not a clue what she meant, but he gazed at her adoringly anyway. “It will make him feel very safe and secure here,” she told Lauren. “We’ll talk about it this afternoon.”

“Alright then,” Charlie kissed Elliot once more before turning to smile at Lauren. The look that she was giving Charlie in that moment left him – and every other adult at the table – in absolutely no doubt as to what she had in store for him when they got back home to spend the first night that they had had to themselves since Elliot was conceived.

“I rather like that,” Fred said quietly to Hermione, who was still finishing her salad. He suspected – correctly – that she wouldn’t necessarily want everyone’s attention brought to their conversation.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” she asked him, putting her fork down and deciding to leave room for whatever dessert Molly was bound to conjure up before they got down from the table.

Fred slid his arm around her waist. “You and I being Elliot’s idea of the poster couple for a stable relationship.

Hermione laughed, and leaned into him. “I’m half minded to ask him why, but I don’t think I want to hear the answer in front of everyone.”

“We’ll find out sometime, I imagine,” he said, leaning in for another kiss. “He’s not backward at sharing his thoughts!”

“It’s this week that it’s all going in the papers, you know,” she said, in a slightly louder voice, not wanting everyone to think they were being rude by whispering.

“Are you OK with that?” Harry asked.

Hermione considered the question and an unusual level of quiet fell while everyone waited for her answer. “I think so,” she nodded, after a couple of moments thought. “I mean, if it will help everyone and not have people forced into something they don’t want…”

Charlie leaned towards Lauren and told her that he would explain later. She looked at him, concerned, but he reassured her and she decided to trust him, leaning into his chest for a cuddle while Hermione continued.

“I’m always wary of the press and how they spin things for their own ends and without regard for others’ feelings. But,” she shrugged, “at the end of the day I have a husband who I love, an amazing family and a week filled with nice things to look forward to, so I’m not going to worry about it.” 

“Good,” said Fred, with a grin. “Because everybody’s behind us, and no matter what anyone says, I’m so excited about your first week at the shop and then we get to celebrate the end of it with pizza night!”

“Excellent!” said Molly, raising her wand. “Now, who’s got room for dessert?”


	38. Commitments and bonds - part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, for the first time in several months, I'm not going to be able to update this next week. I have to sort out some health stuff which will keep me away from my laptop for a few days. Please don't let me come back to a load of complaints lol! Normal Tuesday update service will resume from May 21st and, if you need something to read in the meantime, you might like to check out Romanian Summer (the prequel of Charlie and Lauren's summer together, which is now 4 chapters in) or one of my other Fred/Hermione fics. Thanks for understanding :-)

Half an hour later, all the dessert had been eaten, the table had been cleared and Molly had shooed everyone except Percy and Penelope down the garden to relax and amuse themselves. The young couple had insisted on helping with the clean-up and, once Percy had whispered to his mother that Penelope needed a break from all the ruckus, Molly had swiftly agreed. It would give them a chance to start discussing wedding plans as well. Arthur had attempted to help, but one look from Molly sent him scurrying off to his shed for an after-lunch nap.

He didn’t get to enjoy the company of his eldest son this time, though. Bill strode off into the orchard with Hermione, Ron and Harry, talking to them as he went. He had spoken briefly with Fred and George before they left the garden, letting the twins know to expect to feel some changes in their bond and reassuring Fred that nothing they were doing would affect its nature.

“It’s good for each of you to be able to turn it off to focus,” he told his younger brother, “but in reality it only damps it down. If you wanted to reach Hermione, you could do that with a single thought, as you probably already do with each other.”

The twins nodded in unison. “We know how to do that,” they told Bill.

“OK good, well do me a favour and don’t try playing with it yet … need to give Hermione a chance to learn the basics.”

He had grinned at the salute they gave him before they went to offer to take Elliot so that Charlie and Lauren could have some time to chat. Charlie was feeling much better about his role in Elliot’s life since his heart-to-heart with Bill and he happily encouraged the little boy to go and have fun with Fred and George.

A little further away, Ginny, Luna and Angelina were chatting amongst themselves, with Angelina trying to establish what kind of pizzas everybody liked (and instead discovering that very few of the Weasleys had even tried muggle pizza before) and Ginny trying to establish what was going on between Luna and Ron.

“I suspect it’ll have to be me that makes a move,” the blonde witch told her friends.

“And is that something you’re planning to do?” asked Ginny.

“Not really planning,” said Luna, “but we’ll see. I like things to unfold in their own time, unless the time becomes right and then I don’t really see the point in waiting…”

Ginny frowned a little, trying to work that out, while Angelina decided to try to keep the conversation more practical. “Well you’re invited to pizza night on Friday, with or without Ron, so we’ll see you anytime you like after six. Feel free to floo to the flat or apparate to Diagon Alley and come through the shop; we’ll keep the doors unlocked for family and friends til everybody’s there.”

After a nice long nap, Arthur emerged from his shed and walked over to Molly, who had settled herself into a garden chair from where she was watching Bill and his students. They were huddled together in deep conversation; Harry and Ron giggling at something Hermione was saying while Bill looked on and offered a suggestion here and there. Fred, George and Elliot were oblivious, playing a toy quidditch game in which Fred and George were trying to teach Elliot to aim coloured balls through hoops. Lauren was right, they realised, about his intellect being far superior to his motor skills; the little boy struggled to get the balls anywhere near their target, even when standing still, so they and Charlie had a lot of coaching to do if their nephew was to have a chance of making his house team.

“What are they cooking up?” Arthur asked, nodding at the so-called golden trio as he came to stand behind Molly and put his hands on her shoulders. She took one of Arthur’s hands in hers and squeezed it gently as they looked at the group in the orchard.

“I’m not sure,” she said, “but it’s lovely to see the three of them in cahoots again. That’s the only thing I was a bit worried about when Fred and Hermione got together; whether it would affect her friendship with the others.”

“It looks good to me,” Arthur said, and Molly nodded in agreement. “Look at them giggling together; it’s been a long time since they did that.”

“Things seem to be going well with our new family members too,” Arthur observed, and the two of them turned their heads to look at Charlie and Lauren, who were snuggled up on a beanbag.

“Are you sure, love?” Charlie was saying, as he stroked Lauren’s face gently with his thumb. “About you and me, I mean?”

“You sound worried, Charlie. I’m positive … I promise. I just needed time to get my head around it. It wasn’t even the magic that was the trigger. Your mum had already pretty much confirmed that.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow.

“Well, she told me earlier that the odds of Elliot not being a wizard were thousands to one.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t known that.

“I told you from the off that I’m still massively attracted to you,” and he could see the confirmation of that in the sultry look she was giving him, “and I had always hoped you would turn up on my doorstep one day and want to parent Elliot with me. It was just all a shock when it actually happened out of the blue AND came with the news that this whole new world existed, and I needed a bit of time to adjust.”

“And you have?”

Lauren cupped his face more firmly and leaned forward to kiss him softly. “Yeah. I had a wonderful chat with Hermione and Angie and your mum this morning.” She bit her lip, thinking. “It helped me see things a bit differently. I avoided commitment for so long, because I was afraid of getting hurt again. And then,” she poked his chest gently with two fingers, “into my life you marched, leaning on the wall with your beer, being nice to lizards, and that was me gone. Just took me a while to realise it… And accept it, I guess...”

Charlie wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. “I couldn’t be happier.”

“Me either. And you have a wonderful family,” she said. “I’m falling in love with them already.”

“I think they’re pretty fond of you too.” Charlie chuckled. “So now we just need to wait an appropriate amount of time before we can slink away and I can show you how much I appreciate your decision…” His hand cupped her hip and she moaned softly. 

“I’m so turned on already,” she told him as she leaned forward and kissed him again, teasing his bottom lip with her tongue and making him groan in anticipation. “And not that we can’t play unless we’re alone, but I’m so excited at the thought of having a night with you without any chance of interruption … especially after all this time…”

Before Charlie could return her kiss, a shadow fell over them. “I’m so sorry to interrupt…” Having returned from his session with Hermione, Harry and Ron, Bill’s voice was soft, and he and Fleur, who was with him, both sported apologetic smiles. “It’s just that we weren’t planning to stay all afternoon, but Dad asked us to help key Lauren and Elliot into the wards, and we need as many people here as possible to key Lauren in.”

Lauren looked at Charlie and then back at Bill. “I don’t know what that means, except that Charlie used the same word when I felt horrid on the journey here.”

The two curse-breakers sat down on the grass and explained the concept of wards to Lauren. “The process of keying you in is different for you and Elliot,” Fleur explained. “As he has a magical core, we can key him in like any other magical family member. It’s very simple. The most straightforward way of doing that is if Elliot will let Bill take him for a walk around the perimeter wards and Bill can key him in as they go. He won’t feel a thing, except he’ll have a sense of feeling safe and at home here.”

When Bill saw her smile, he interjected. “If you’ve got a sling or a carrier or something, that would leave my wand arm free to key him in, but I can soon put him on my shoulders if you don’t.”

“I’ve got both in the car,” she said. 

Charlie looked at Lauren. “Are you OK with this; shall I get it?”

“It definitely won’t hurt him?” she looked a bit concerned.

“Love,” said Charlie, taking her hand in his. “We’ll never ask you to agree to anything that will hurt either of you, in any way.”

Lauren grinned. “Does that mean we don’t have to apparate again?!”

Bill chuckled at that. “Not a fan?” he asked, and Lauren shook her head.

“It does get easier after the first couple of times,” Fleur smiled.

“So everyone keeps saying,” Lauren smiled. “I am yet to be convinced, but I’m trying to keep an open mind.”

“Elliot will think I’m just taking him for a walk,” Bill continued.

Lauren nodded. “Go on then. I trust you.” 

Bill got a funny look in his eyes at that. He reached towards Lauren’s hand, but hesitated to touch it. He seemed to want to say something, but clearly wasn’t sure how to.

“What is it?” Lauren asked softly. Then a smile crossed her face. “Are you going to give me a big brother talk about being nice to Charlie or else you’ll set Fleur on me?”

Bill shook his head. “I just wanted to say a proper welcome, really. I’m so…” he paused, feeling an emotion he couldn’t name, “well I’m so bloody glad Hermione found you. I don’t really know what it is I want to say, but I can’t believe Charlie’s coming home, and we can all bring up our kids together. I was afraid he was going to stay in Romania and miss it all.”

Charlie was looking down at the grass, poking at daisies with his fingers and not really trusting himself to speak.

“And,” Bill continued, “when you’ve got time, Fleur and I would love to invite you both over and get to know you better.”

“That would be lovely, Bill, thank you.” Lauren reached over, insisting on pulling him into a hug, catching Fleur’s eyes as she did. Fleur smiled. Both women could see that this was borne of Bill and Charlie’s deep brotherly love for each other, although neither man quite had the words to say it themselves. Fleur moved towards Charlie and put her arms around him.

“I am so happy for you too,” she said, and he kissed her cheek before plucking one of the daisies from the ground and putting it behind her ear with a grin. Then his grin suddenly got wider.

“You know this means I’ll be initiating regular family quidditch games though, right? That’s one of the few things I can beat Bill at!”

Bill laughed heartily at that.

“What’s quidditch?” Lauren asked Fleur. “Is it wizarding football or something?”

Fleur looked at Charlie, who shook his head slightly. “I am going to let Charlie tell you later; it’s his thing more than mine,” she smiled, and gave Charlie one last squeeze before she let him go.

“Alright,” said Lauren. “I’m going to need to make a list!”

Bill laughed, letting Lauren go and getting to his feet. “Come on then, mate,” he said to Charlie. “Enough of this sappiness. Let’s key your boy in…”

Charlie jumped to his feet as well and he and Bill strode off together towards Lauren’s car, veering off to catch Elliot on the way. He seemed keen to have a new adventure and took Bill’s hand happily.

“He’s doing well,” said Fleur, watching Elliot chat to his father and uncle, waving another twig that he had appropriated as a pretend wand.

“He’s going to crash soon,” Lauren replied. “It’s only the sugar that everyone keeps putting in him that’s keeping him awake!”

Fleur smiled, and there was a pause while she decided how to explain ward keying to Lauren. “So,” she said slowly, “the process with you is a little different, because you do not have a magical core. There are two types of wards and we need to tune them both to recognise your energy. It would be good if we could put the outer wards back up to prevent other non-magical people coming to the house, although of course we can make exceptions for any of your family that you might want to bring sometime…”

“Not really an issue,” Lauren said quickly.

“OK, well those are the ones that made you feel bad and, after we have done the spell, you will feel happy and be easily able to pass them. And then there are the inner wards. At the moment, any of us can bring you in past the inner wards, like Charlie did, but Molly wants you to be able to come by yourself, as well. In your…” she broke off, not knowing the word she wanted to say.

“Voiture?” suggested Lauren.

“Oui,” Fleur said, a little surprised. “Tu parle Français?”

“Un peu,” Lauren replied. “Just school level. The English word is car.” 

“Thank you. It is not a word we use so much in our world. Molly wishes that you are able to come in the car without Charlie if you want that, so we will do a short piece of magic which brings you into the protection of our family magic and it will allow you the freedom to pass through all our wards. You will be able to drive to mine and Bill’s house too, if you like, as they are connected, and we will make it that our wards will recognise you too. It is not far from here.”

“Oh,” said Lauren. “That would be lovely.” She hadn’t really thought about where everybody else lived.

But Fleur was set on explaining the magic rather than giving directions. “It is not many families that can do this type of spell,” she continued, “as it needs a minimum of nine family members who are magically connected to the wards of the house and garden by blood or marriage. So that is also why we need to do this now, while we are all here. They will make a circle around you and I will be with you to help with the spell. All you will notice is a feeling of love and protection. I promise it is not like apparition at all. You will be very comfortable and you can stand or sit, as you prefer.”

Lauren chose to sit and, once Charlie returned, he levitated one of the sofas from the campfire circle for her and Fleur to occupy. Fleur quietly gathered those who were eligible to cast the spell, and Charlie, Molly, Arthur, Percy, Fred, Hermione, George, Ron and Ginny arranged themselves into a circle, linking their hands together with everybody’s wands held in their right hands. 

“We have nine even without Bill and I, so we can let him keep going, and I can stay here with you.” Fleur tipped her head towards the quidditch pitch, around which Bill was striding with his nephew safely bound to his back with a rainbow sling that Elliot had chosen and Molly had helped tie. Lauren was interested that Molly was clearly familiar with this way of carrying babies and also relieved to see Elliot nestled against Bill’s back, stroking Bill’s ponytail and, she thought, hopefully nodding off. He was way overdue for a nap.

“Molly and Arthur will lead the magic, as they are the heads of the family; they don’t need me,” Fleur said. “So why don’t the rest of you join Lauren and I in the circle and feel the love that everyone has for you too?” With an elegant wave of her arm, she invited Penelope, Harry, Luna and Angelina into the circle. None of them could participate in casting the spell, because they didn’t yet have a blood or marriage tie to The Burrow, but she suspected that Lauren might feel more comfortable if everyone was involved, rather than spectating from outside.

Luna sat cross-legged on the grass near Lauren’s feet and touched her arm. “It’s all very odd, isn’t it?” she whispered. “I expect you’ll need time to think about it later.” Lauren smiled in agreement, and then Luna leaned in closely. “Although you’ll probably be too busy with Charlie tonight to have time to think about anything else for a while.”

Lauren managed to stop herself snorting and she looked around quickly, hoping that the others hadn’t heard. Penelope’s eyes were dancing but she didn’t seem to know what to say and, next to Luna, Harry was choosing to pretend that he hadn’t heard what Luna had said. Ginny caught Lauren’s eyes from Harry’s other side and they shared a smile together. Lauren was pleased; she hadn’t really had a chance to talk much with Charlie’s only sister, just because there was so much going on, and she was happy to feel that they did have a connection and maybe a shared sense of humour. 

“I’m going to ask Angelina to sit on your other side, if you will, Angie?”

“Of course.” Angelina quietly reached for Lauren’s hand and squeezed it. Lauren was touched by the gesture from the younger woman and gave her a grateful smile. 

“And that way,” Fleur continued, “you’re surrounded by people you know. We really do want you to feel comfortable and safe. OK,” she said, looking around to ensure that everything was as it should be. “Molly and Arthur, over to you.”

Lauren tried to listen to the incantation, which began in Latin. She really did. But within moments of it beginning, those in the circle started to walk around the group gathered in the middle and Lauren felt such an enormous wave of happiness and love that she was unable to do anything except tip her head back, hold onto Fleur and Angelina’s hands and enjoy it. She had no idea how long it lasted, but it left a residual sense of wellbeing in her body that never left, and that would heighten every time she neared or was at The Burrow. 

Lauren wasn’t even conscious of the spell having been completed until she slowly became aware that Charlie was kneeling on the ground in front of the sofa, the most enormous smile on his face, as she heard Molly telling Arthur not to be an elf in the background, that she would get anything that was needed. She must be dreaming, Lauren thought; the spell had clearly made her fall asleep. Of course Charlie’s dad couldn’t be an elf; what a ridiculous idea. Lauren giggled slightly at the thought, though. She gazed in awe at the trees around her, which were a kaleidoscope of colours and patterns, and then tipped her face upwards to better enjoy the sparkles of light that she could see dancing in the sunlight.

Fleur and Angelina both stood, gently tugging her hands to encourage Lauren towards Charlie, who was kneeling on the grass in front of the sofa. He reached for her waist, pulling her forward until she was straddling him. Once she was settled, his arms went around her and he cupped the back of her head with one hand, ensuring she was snuggled into him. Lauren vaguely heard Fleur’s voice agreeing with Molly that a cup of tea would be very grounding, and she saw Molly walking towards the house. Next, Lauren thought she heard Fred tell Charlie about the chocolate truffles he had brought her earlier in the day. At a nod from Charlie, Fred gently told Lauren what he was going to do and then took the chocolates from Lauren’s dress pocket, holding them open for his brother. Charlie, just as he had done with the rhubarb and custard car sweet early that morning, took one out and carefully popped it between Lauren’s lips. A few minutes later, Molly did a similar thing, holding a cup of tea to Lauren’s lips and encouraging her to sip it. Lauren was vaguely aware of Molly shooing everyone else away and pointing out that Lauren probably didn’t need an audience.

Slowly, while holding onto Charlie and nuzzling her face into his neck as if she were a kitten, Lauren came back to reality. “That was amazing,” she told him and Molly after a few minutes. “I feel like a first-year getting stoned for the first time at Fresher’s Week.”

Charlie had no idea what that meant, and was reminded of the lengths he had had to go to in Romania to keep up with Lauren’s muggle references. “Are you OK, sweets?” he asked softly, as Molly put the tea cup on the grass next to Lauren and moved away herself, wanting to give the two of them time to be together.

“I’m wonderful,” she slurred. “I feel so loved, so happy. Like I belong here now.”

Charlie looked into Lauren’s eyes and smiled softly. “Welcome to the Weasley family, lovely.”


	39. Commitments and bonds - part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this update, I have written a quarter of a million words of fan fiction :o
> 
> And I only set out to write a one-shot as an experiment lol

The tea and chocolate helped Lauren’s return to reality, though not as much as Bill and Elliot’s arrival back to where she, Charlie and a few of his family members were sprawled around, enjoying the early afternoon sun. She was starting to notice all the different connections between the Weasleys and their extended family; she smiled to see Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna giggling together in one corner of the garden, and Charlie told her that they were all of a similar age and had been close at school. He didn’t need to explain Fred and George’s connection, but he added that Angelina, who was sat beside them with her head pillowed on George’s thigh, was in their year at school as well and that they were a couple of years older than the others.

“Not that we aren’t all close,” he said, “but we’re all interconnected in different ways. Ginny and Hermione are quite close, and Penelope and Fleur are fairly pally too. And Bill and I, which you probably realise, and here he comes … he must have felt his ears burning!”

Lauren sat up as Bill neared. “He’s almost asleep, I think,” Bill whispered as he drew close to them, not quite able to see the tiny wizard over his shoulder. “There’s no more tension on my ponytail, anyway,” he chuckled, as Charlie held a beanbag still for him so that he could sit down without waking his nephew.

“No, not sleep,” said Elliot, who was clearly fighting the urge to rest. He didn’t want to miss a moment of time with his new friends.

“I think it might be time for a nap, lovely,” Lauren suggested softly. “I’ve got Mr Rabbit in my bag…” She began to twist her body around, looking for her handbag, until she spotted it under the bench where they had sat for lunch. When she moved as if to get up and fetch it, Charlie touched her arm, stopping her, and quietly summoned it with his wand instead. Lauren watched in awe as the bag steadily flew towards her, with Charlie controlling its descent until it landed just by her side.

“No,” Elliot told Lauren again when she fished into her newly arrived bag and brought the fluffy rabbit out. It was clear that the little boy was exhausted and getting grumpy, and she was worried that a temper tantrum would be coming next. 

Lauren put Mr Rabbit in her lap and moved towards Bill to help him untie the sling so she could pull Elliot into her arms. “It’s hard, lovely, I know,” she told him. “It’s very exciting in the garden with all these new people and you don’t want to have a nap. But if you do, you’ll have more energy to play again later.” Lauren looked at Charlie, considering what to do. It felt hard to parent Elliot in front of his entire family, especially as she had only just met most of them, and she was hoping for some help from him.

“Don’t want nap,” Elliot said, firmly, crossing his arms and trying to lean away from her, making it difficult to hold him. If Lauren wasn’t already aware of his growing grumpiness from his attitude and body language, the shortening of his sentences was always a clue.

“Oh that’s a shame,” a voice came from behind him. It was Molly. “Because this is about the time that Bryan takes his nap, and he would have loved to meet you and Mr Rabbit, I’m sure.” She spoke slowly, using exaggerated eye movements to emphasise her words and get Elliot’s full attention.

“Bryan? MY Bryan?” Charlie asked, with some surprise. Lauren’s eyes widened. She had a distant memory of Charlie mentioning Bryan one evening on their favourite Romanian sofa and looked at Charlie, feeling a tingling sensation. 

Molly nodded. “He’s upstairs, in your old bed. He flew down from the attic and jumped in there yesterday when he heard Elliot was coming.” She managed to wink at Lauren without Elliot seeing.

“Who’s Bryan?” asked Elliot, his curiosity greater than his desire to maintain his current position.

“He’s my cuddly dragon from when I was your age,” Charlie replied. “He was my sleeping friend like Mr Rabbit is yours. I didn’t know he still lived here!”

“What, you think I’d send him out to work, just because you all grew up and went away? No, they’re all still here; waiting for the next generation of Weasleys to cuddle them.” Lauren loved seeing the tender look that crossed Molly’s face as she said that.

“Can I meet Bryan? Please Nanna?” Elliot asked his grandmother, wide-eyed with excitement at the idea.

Molly seemed to consider this before she answered. “I suppose it depends whether you’d be able to lie down quietly in the bed and cuddle him while he takes a nap. He’s very sleepy right now.”

“I can do that!” said Elliot. “Can Mr Rabbit come?”

“Of course,” Molly replied, holding out her hand. “He’s in your dad’s old bed … get your rabbit and we’ll go and find him.” Elliot turned to his mother and finally accepted Mr Rabbit.

“I love you,” she told Elliot and he threw his arms around her neck.

“I love you too, mummy.” He placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek before turning back to Molly.

“You’re very good,” Lauren whispered to Molly, as the little boy allowed his grandmother to pick him up. “Thank you.” 

Molly gave the younger woman a wink as she walked away, Elliot’s sleepy little head resting on her shoulder. She was enjoying this. It was nice to be needed again, and she was going to make it her job to help Lauren get as much alone time with Charlie as possible. She was delighted that Elliot had agreed to staying overnight and was doing her best to make him feel safe and at home. Keying him into the wards would have helped with that too, she imagined, making a mental note to ask Bill or Fleur when Elliot had fallen asleep.

Across the garden, a different kind of negotiation was taking place and Charlie laughed to see Fred and George with their heads together before Fred patted George on the back, walked towards the younger group and then led Hermione off into the trees. Almost immediately, the other four got up and crossed the lawn in the opposite direction, walking towards where George and Angelina were sitting. 

“Oh good,” said Bill, beginning to walk over there as well. “I’ve been looking forward to this. Now, where’s my Fleur?”

“Come on, love,” Charlie said to Lauren. “Let’s go and join in this chat; it’ll be fun.”

Smiling, if a tad confused, Lauren followed him to join the group that were now laughing together around the fire pit. “Alright then, who’s got the quidditch pitch?” Charlie joked, as they drew near.

Ron groaned. “Not me. I’ve only got one so far.”

“Where’s that then?” Bill asked.

“Dad’s shed,” he replied.

“Oh yuk,” said Bill, feigning a look of disgust. “I drink beer in there!”

“It’s the bond,” said George, who was holding Angelina between his legs and playing with her hair. “Nowhere’s sacred. You should know that better than anyone.”

Lauren looked at Charlie in confusion. “I know this isn’t really my business, but now I’m in the family, am I allowed to ask what on earth you’re all talking about?”

Charlie chuckled, kissing her temple before he drew her onto his lap on a garden sofa. “Fremione sex bingo,” he grinned.

Lauren laughed. “Oh, well that’s MUCH clearer!”

Between them, and amidst much laughter, the group explained the nature of Fred and Hermione’s marriage bond and what had happened in the days after they had returned from their honeymoon. 

Unsurprisingly, George had been the first person to catch Fred and Hermione semi-publicly scratching the proverbial, frequent and overpowering itch that was their need to be with each other and re-consummate their bond on a very regular basis. “Nice legs, Granger,” he had commented as he had entered and then immediately left the WWW stockroom after taking in the sight of his brother lifting his new wife to sit on the workbench, wandlessly banishing her knickers upstairs to the laundry basket and sheathing his hard cock inside her in one smooth move. The two were barely aware of his presence and Hermione’s only response as she wound her legs even more tightly around his twin’s waist was to moan Fred’s name as she arched her back, and George simply shut and warded the door as he went back into the main shop, laughing and shaking his head. 

But it was during the previous week’s not-so-subtle post Sunday dinner visit to the treehouse in which ‘Fremione bingo’ was born. Initially the brainchild of George and proposed as a way of providing comic relief and giving him something else to focus on while his best friend and business partner was regularly otherwise occupied, it was a combined game and bet that could only have been created by the younger members of the Weasley family. 

Hard negotiations had begun over the post-lunch butterbeers. George’s first proposal of a bet, with the winner the person who caught them at it the most often, was rejected out of hand. No-one had any doubt that he would easily win that, not just because of the amount of time that he spent with the couple but because the fact that they shut down the twin bond each time gave him warning and the ability, if he had the time and the inclination, to figure out where they were. Not that he would do that under normal circumstances, but if a bet was at stake then that was a different matter.

Ginny’s suggestion that everyone should predict places that Fred and Hermione would choose was debated for a little longer, but fell at the final hurdle when it was pointed out that she, Charlie and George, as Hermione and Fred’s main confidantes, might have a better idea of where they would go. Charlie was floo-called into the conversation and it was ultimately agreed that the fairest game was one in which everyone would throw place suggestions, both predictable and implausible, onto a long list and Bill would create a spell to list them randomly on a set of cards. The cards were to be divided evenly between each person who wanted to play, everyone agreed to share all and any knowledge of where the deed had been done, and the winner would be the person who had the most ‘winning’ cards on Christmas day.

“Are we all in agreement then?” Bill had asked, as George went round the table collecting the twenty galleon stake that all participants were putting into the pot. Bill had covered Charlie’s stake and the two eldest Weasleys had made a plan to swap bingo cards and money by owl that week. 

“I still can’t believe I’m doing this,” Ron had muttered, handing over the money. “It’s a bit weird…”

“Yes, it is,” Harry had agreed. “But it’s sort of therapeutic at the same time. If we’re focusing on the bet, then we’re not thinking so much about what’s actually happening.”

“That’s a good point, actually,” Ron had said, and they had moved on to chat about other things.

George and Charlie had no such qualms and they were delighting in explaining the game to Lauren. “You’ll have to share my cards, though,” Charlie said. “Wouldn’t be able to bring a new player in at this point; all the locations have been divvied up! If I win, I’ll get you more of those truffles you seem to love,” he promised.

“I can’t wait til we tell them on Christmas day,” said George cheerfully.

“Do you think we have to?” That was Ron again.

“Course we do, Ron,” Charlie pulled a ‘how can you even ask’ face. “It won’t be fair otherwise. They might have done it in places that someone has in their hand but that we don’t know about.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that…”

“Good job you have us then, isn’t it?” George grinned.

“And,” said Bill to Lauren, “we agreed that it’s fine to use subtle means to try to persuade them towards the places on your cards, but if they get wind of what we’re doing as a result of someone’s actions or words, then that person forfeits their stake and has to clear the table after Sunday dinner for the whole of next year.”

“Which I still say has given Fleur, Penelope and Angelina an advantage,” Ginny joked. “Mainly because those three actually know what subtlety means! We Weasleys have to tread much more carefully there!” 

“I’ve already announced that whoever has my cabin at the sanctuary in their hand is welcome to bribe me to give them a weekend away,” Charlie explained to Lauren. “Especially now it’ll be empty more often...” Fleur raised her eyebrows at Bill; she held that card, and had already decided that this might be worth a few roast dinners, depending on what Charlie’s price would be.

At that, several people got their cards out of their pockets and began asking George and Ginny questions, knowing that the two of them had the best inside knowledge of what was happening with their two newlyweds. The chatter was friendly and Charlie took the time to explain more about Hermione and Fred’s story to Lauren, who again expressed her surprise and dismay at the fact that they had felt they had no choice but to wed. She was somewhat reassured when Charlie pointed out the depth of the love they had always had for each other, but it was a tricky one for her to understand. 

At that point, Ginny joined in, confirming that they were sickeningly happy and that it really was only a case of speeding up something that would have happened anyway in time. Lauren was really happy to be finally having a proper conversation with the youngest Weasley. Ginny began to tell Lauren stories of the two of them at school, explaining how they had always bantered with each other. It was clear, she told Lauren, that Fred and Hermione had liked each other, even though more people at the time were picking that it would be Hermione and Ron. “But the way Fred’s eyes would light up when she told him off,” Ginny laughed, “and hers would always get this sparkle when he came near. I’m just so happy for them that they got pushed into things sooner rather than later. They’re both a bit stubborn, so I don’t know if either of them would have made the first move otherwise. As it was, it took George’s intervention to push him…”

Lauren looked at George, who was smiling. “He had denied it for years, but he knew I knew.” He shrugged. “We can’t hide things like that from each other. Only if we close our connection down, like if we go to the quidditch pitch for a shag.” His laugh was loud and infectious.

Fred and Hermione weren’t on the quidditch pitch though. As soon as they were out of sight, Fred had taken Hermione’s hand, seeking permission through the bond and, as she gave it with a smile, he apparated them into his and George’s old bedroom. Fred turned to face his wife, cast a couple of privacy and silencing spells and then led her to his bed with a smile.

“Long-held fantasy of a teenage boy, love, is this OK?”

Hermione reached for his waist with her hands. “Tell me how it goes, and we’ll make it come true…”

Fred’s face lit up. “Really?”

Hermione laughed and nodded. “It can’t be that extreme, surely, if you were a teenager at the time?”

Fred leaned down to kiss her. “It was very tame, love. I would be lying in my bed, and Georgie would be somewhere else, of course. Not that he was often somewhere else when I was in here, but this is a fantasy, you understand? And you would come down from Ginny’s room and knock on the door and ask to come in because you couldn’t sleep or had a nightmare or something. This was,” he hastened to add, with an apologetic expression, “before we all knew what nightmares really were.”

Hermione patted him in reassurance. “I know. So you’re in bed … go on then…” She pushed him towards his bed. “And you should maybe get naked…”

Fred felt himself begin to get hard from the realisation that she was about to make his favourite teenage fantasy come true. Quickly, he threw off his clothes and dived under the covers. 

“I assume I’m in my pyjamas in this fantasy?” Hermione asked, transfiguring her clothes into a skimpy pyjama top and shorts, similar to those that she had worn a few years back. Fred gulped, swore and nodded. “So what happens after I knock?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I notice that you’re shivering with cold, and invite you to get into my bed, just to talk but, once you get under the covers with me, and by the way this is the working of my fifteen-year-old mind, so don’t expect subtlety!”

Hermione chuckled, leaning against the door. “Just tell me, Fred! I can’t make your dream come true if you don’t…”

“Well that’s about it for plot, love. Once you get in, you can’t hide your attraction for me and it moves pretty quickly from there…”

“Alright.” With a few waves of her wand, Hermione closed the curtains, made the room dark and stepped outside, closing the door. She added her own privacy spells, aware that Molly was settling Elliot in for a nap just a floor away and gave Fred a couple of minutes to anticipate what was going to happen before she softly knocked on the wooden door.

“Come in,” Fred called. Hermione entered the room, slowly and carefully closing the door behind her, giving Fred a good view of her bottom in her sleep shorts. She turned to face him only after she had closed the door, and was surprised at how much the scene turned her on. Fred hadn’t been the only one who had harboured this kind of fantasy as a teenager. “Are you OK?” he asked her.

“I thought I heard you up. I can’t sleep, Fred,” she told him in a whisper. “Not sure why. Just needed some company and I thought you might be awake.”

“Come here, love,” Fred said, patting his bed. He scooted backwards, towards the wall. Hermione walked over and sat on the bed, her hips not far from his. Fred lifted his hand out from under the covers and touched her arm. “You’re freezing!” he exclaimed. “Come on, get in, under the covers. It’s too cold out there.”

Looking at him from under her eyelashes, Hermione did as he suggested, ensuring that she flashed him a peek of her breasts down her pyjama top as she did so. That would have blown his fifteen-year old mind, she thought to herself. He wrapped his arms around her. “This OK?” he said.

It was more than OK. Hermione was unbelievably turned on. If it was up to her, she would have jumped him then and there. But she wanted him to be able to have this play out in his own way.

“Mmmmm, yes,” she said. Then, in a quieter voice, “though actually, I’m feeling a bit … I’m experiencing some strange sensations now I’m next to you, Fred.” She tried to look shy, as she imagined she might have done if this had really happened a few years prior.

“Oh really?” His voice was husky with need. “Where are your strange sensations, love? Maybe I could help you feel better?”

“Here,” she took his right hand and placed it on her breast. “And between my legs…” she trailed off, looking into his eyes, feigning innocence.

“Oh fuck, love,” he said, his hand dipping into her pyjama bottoms to feel for himself. “I’m so turned on … can’t wait…”

“Me too … just let me get these off and then fuck me, please,” she said. And he did, banishing her shorts to the floor and climbing on top of her, just as he had done in his dreams, with all the enthusiasm and passion that his fifteen-year old self had for Hermione. They moaned together, until Fred was unable to hold back his orgasm and came loudly. Realising that Hermione hadn’t got there yet, he reached his hand down between them and rubbed her in soft circles with the pad of his thumb, whispering more of his teenage fantasies into her ear as he did. She wasn’t long behind him and, once she was completely spent, they cuddled for a few minutes before dressing and turning their clothes back to normal so that they were decent for their return to the garden. Rather than apparate back and pretend that they had come from the same direction, they simply walked downstairs and out of the front door of The Burrow.

“Oh,” Harry said, as he spotted a slightly tousled Hermione walking back across the grass just ahead of Fred, who sported a half-untucked shirt and his usual grin. Quickly, the bingo cards were scooped up into handbags and pockets. 

“Not the quidditch pitch, then?” That was Charlie, who looked at George. “Can you pick the location up from the twin bond?” He knew that every room in The Burrow was listed on the cards, along with several cupboards, the attic and the roof. And between them, the Weasleys and their other halves had come up with quite a few possible garden-based locations as well.

“Don’t need a bond to know that; look at his smug face! That’s the face of someone who’s just had their teenage wet dream come true. He took her to our old bedroom.” Ginny couldn’t hide a smug look of her own; that was one of her locations. Now, if she could just get them to try the pantry, she would be well ahead of Harry. “Hello! Good walk, you two?” George never even tried to keep a straight face; they know full well that the shutting down of the twin bond keyed him in every time and, on this occasion, they had openly negotiated their alone time with him.

“Lovely, thank you,” said Hermione, winking at her self-appointed husband-in-law and feeling far less bothered about whether anyone knew of their passion for each other than she might once have been. “I’m thirsty now, after my exercise. Is there any more tea in the pot, or shall I put the kettle on again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and happy comments are always very welcome and help to keep me going :-)


	40. A night together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say a huge thank you to those who have encouraged and been really positive about the Charlie/Lauren arc in this story. When I wrote the ‘Charlie’s Advice’ chapter, several months ago, I had no intention of saying any more about Lauren, the woman whose wisdom Charlie wanted to share with Hermione before she married Fred. But so many people asked me to help Charlie find his lost love that I couldn’t resist. Lauren and Elliot have now become a big part of this and, as you may know, I’ve now also completed a prequel about how they first met. It’s called Charlie and Lauren’s Romanian Summer, and it’s pretty much what it says on the tin! And, frankly, without the Charlie/Lauren arc and my making this about the Weasley family more widely, this whole story would almost certainly have ended after Hermione and Fred’s honeymoon.
> 
> I encountered quite a bit of negativity from people complaining that they wanted me to go back to Hermione and Fred sooner, though. We will be going back to them next week, when Hermione starts in her new role at WWW, but I have to say I am so glad I held out and wrote what I wanted to write. I want to encourage others to do the same; if you want to write, write what YOU want to write! And if you’re a lover of stories and writing, please use the power that you have to leave positive comments on a fic – any fic – to encourage writers. Let’s not shut the next JK Rowling down by discouraging people from exploring new pairings, ideas and worlds :D
> 
> Thanks for reading, commenting and following and I hope you enjoy Charlie and Lauren’s first proper night together since Lauren left for her flight home 😊

During the afternoon, the Weasleys began to say their farewells and wander home. Percy and Penelope went first, as they had promised to spend the evening with Penelope’s parents but wanted to pop home for a couple of hours beforehand. 

It was clear to all that Lauren and Charlie couldn’t wait to get home and be by themselves, but they wanted to make sure that Elliot was awake from his nap and settled before they did, so they had a quiet chat once they saw Molly carrying Elliot back out into the garden, and decided that they would spend another hour or so with the Weasleys and then take their leave. 

“Mum and Dad will keep him busy, don’t worry,” Charlie reassured her, as their son ran over and began to tell them about meeting Bryan before running off to see if Fred and George would like to play with him. 

“Indeed we will. Some of the others are staying for tea, Arthur promised to take him around the garden to look for bunnies, and Fred says he’ll pop back to the flat with Elliot to get Graham if you’re OK with that?” Molly said to Lauren.

“Of course,” Lauren smiled. “Elliot loves flooing and apparating; it’s me who struggles with apparition! I’ll leave the carrier and all his things,” she said.

“Well, we could leave the whole car,” Charlie said slowly. “Could you bear to apparate with me back to your place?” he asked her. “It’ll be about fifteen thousand times faster than driving. We could pick up the car tomorrow, maybe?”

“As long as I can put a humbug in my mouth before we go,” Lauren said, wrapping her hand around Charlie’s hip in a gesture that she barely seemed to be aware of but that made his heart swell with emotion. “That might offset the nausea a bit … maybe?” She looked at Molly and Ginny, who had walked up to spend time with them while Harry and Ron talked about work.

Charlie leaned his head down towards her ear, tenderly brushing her hair away from her face as he did. “I’ll be ready to whisk it away and help you feel better if you need me to,” he promised. “But the more times you do it, the easier it’ll be.”

“He’s right,” Ginny confirmed. “It doesn’t happen a lot, but he’s right on this one.”

Lauren laughed. “Alright, I’ll apparate. Can we send the dragon … messenger to check on Elliot later?”

“If you like,” said Molly. “But there’s no need. If he’s at all unhappy or wants to see you, I’ll send a message right away. I promise. And Charlie can whisk you both straight back. There are plenty of beds for you to sleep in here if that becomes easier…”

“Alright then.” 

Having made a decision, Charlie and Lauren saw no reason to prolong their departure. They went to have a quick chat with Elliot, who was still with Fred and George. The two men were sitting one either side of their nephew, still trying to teach him to say George’s actual name – or his own version of it, given that he found some ‘G’ words hard to say.

“I think we’re reached a compromise pronunciation,” Fred grinned at Lauren. He turned to Elliot, pointing at his brother. “What’s he called?”

“Forgie!” Elliot grinned.

George looked pleased. “It’s close enough,” he said.

“I think it’s rather lovely,” Fred smiled, “and we’re all good here, by the way, so off you pop and have your wicked way with each other.”

Lauren and Charlie both laughed and then leaned down to say goodbye to Elliot. “We’ll see you in the morning … I’ll be here for breakfast,” Charlie promised, as Lauren covered his face with kisses and tickled his ribs, making him laugh.

“Have a lovely time with Nanna and Grandad,” she said. “Give Graham a cuddle for me…”

That done, their goodbyes were almost as quick as Fred and Hermione’s had been at the end of their wedding day, although perhaps Molly was simply reminded of that because the young couple happened to end up standing in a similar place, with a row of Weasleys and their significant others lining up to hug them and tell them how happy they were to have met Lauren and Elliot and to hear that the three were going to be together.

Amazingly, most of Charlie’s brothers refrained from following Fred’s example and making lewd comments, for Lauren’s sake, although Ginny raised her eyebrows in a suggestive gesture and Bill couldn’t resist whispering a quick, “enjoy, mate…” into Charlie’s ear as they left. Taking Lauren into his arms, Charlie apparated them to her back garden and stood with his hand on her back as she leaned over, one hand on the garden shed to steady her; still nauseous but not actually sick that time. After a minute or so, she straightened her body, and led Charlie to the back door, fishing into her handbag for the door key as they walked.

“Cup of tea?” she asked, teasingly, as they entered her kitchen, which was warm from the heat of the day. “Or have you had enough?”

Charlie didn’t reply verbally. Instead, he took the two steps that closed the gap between them and slid both of his hands around Lauren’s waist. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear. “I know it’s too early and probably not cool to say it, but I don’t care. I love you, you gorgeous woman.”

“Charlie,” Lauren sighed as he applied his lips to her neck and kissed his way up her jawline, moving his hands south as he did. “I’m pretty sure I love you too, you gorgeous man.”

“Good,” he said. “So we don’t need to waste any more time?”

“No.” Lauren could feel herself getting wet just from the feel of his large hands on her arse. She loved that he remembered how that was a turn-on for her. “Wait…” She leaned out, not wanting to let go of him but needing to close the door behind them so that she could relax in the knowledge that no-one would walk in on them.

“Do I need to ask about contraception? Not that I really want to…”

“Your mum gave me a potion,” Lauren said, taking the brown bottle out of her pocket in between kisses and while running her fingers through his hair. “Apparently I can use it in addition to any muggle thing I’m doing, if I want.” 

“Oh fuck, sorry love.” He had been worried that Molly might try to interfere.

“No, really, it was sweet of her.” Lauren returned the favour and fondled Charlie’s bum in return as she locked the back door with her other hand. 

He raised his eyebrows suggestively and slinked his arm around her waist. “I suppose we do need to consider that I have super strength wizardy seeds that got you pregnant before… Are you though?”

“Using something muggle?” Lauren’s voice was low.

“Mmmmm hmmm.” He kissed her again.

“Nah,” her lips fastened onto his neck and she began to tug on his shirt. Charlie pulled back, wondering if he needed to put the brakes on. He wasn’t sure how on earth he was going to do that, but he would just have to figure it out. “No,” she said slowly, trying hard to calm herself, “I’m not using any muggle thing, as you all call it, at the moment. There hasn’t been any need, since you were the last man I was with…”

“I was?” he asked, somewhat surprised by her answer, and Lauren confirmed his question with a small nod and a sultry look.

“Yeah… I’ll take your mum’s potion this time. Not ‘cause I don’t want to grow a bigger family with you one day. I think we could use some time together before we have any more big changes, though…” She took the potion out of her pocket and squeezed a dropperful into her mouth, just as Molly had told her to. Lauren winced and pulled a face at the bitter taste and then walked over to the fridge. Taking a half-finished bottle of white wine out of the door, she reached for a glass, poured an inch or so of the cold liquid into it and then drank it down in one to get rid of the taste of the potion. “Yuk!” she said, and Charlie laughed. “That’s minging!” Lauren added another inch of wine to the glass and offered it to him. He didn’t take his eyes off her as he downed it.

“I’ll open a fresh one in a bit,” she promised, putting the glass down and turning back to Charlie, who had placed his hand on her stomach. 

“I can’t wait to actually see you pregnant next time…” Charlie spread his fingers out, her tummy still soft and stretched from carrying his child. He was still sad that he had missed loving her through her pregnancy, and couldn’t wait for the chance to experience another with her. He looked up at her, not quite sure how she would respond to that thought. She had only committed to a relationship with him a few hours ago, after all, but she had said that she was open to them making a bigger family.

Lauren laughed. “I’m not going to promise it’ll happen right away even when we do try. It took us a whole summer before, you know? Going by the dates, it was almost certainly our last night when Elliot was conceived. Although that was with contraception, I suppose…” she murmured, her mind too fuzzy with desire to really be able to weigh up the odds.

“I remember that night…” he kissed her neck, feeling a new wave of happiness at this further confirmation of her desire to be with him for the long term. “I wish I had realised how I had felt before you left the next morning though.”

“It’s done now,” Lauren said, turning into his arms and tipping her face towards his lips. “We have to think about the future.” She leaned forward and captured his lips, making him moan as she gently licked her wine-drenched tongue into his mouth. A thrill went through her as she did and she whined a little, making Charlie smile. 

“Come on,” she said, pulling him towards the living room. Slowly, they made their way across the kitchen and into Lauren’s living room, kissing and touching each other as they went. That was as far as they got, though. Lauren sat on the sofa, still wearing her unbuttoned dress, though she had kicked off her sandals and the dress had hiked up her legs, allowing Charlie to gaze longingly at her thighs. He had been barefoot since the kitchen and he gently moved Lauren’s legs further apart so he could kneel between them.

“Is this the point where I offer to show you some tricks with my wand?” 

“Do you say that to all the girls?”

“Just the ones I love,” he captured a breast in his hand, gently rubbing his thumb over her hardening nipple. “May I, love? It’s been so long…”

Lauren nodded, and Charlie’s lips moved back to hers as he started unbuttoning her dress from the top. “They’re a different shape these days,” she said, teasingly. “From feeding your son. You’ll have to learn them all over again…”

Charlie groaned, his eyes drinking in her larger, softer breasts. “Like that’s going to be a hardship.”

“One request,” Lauren whispered. “Well, actually two…”

“What’s that?” He spread her dress apart and leaned down to press a long kiss to her nipple through the fabric of her bra. To Lauren’s slight surprise, she found that she was even more sensitive to his touch than before. Not that she was complaining.

“No magic during sex,” she said. “It was amazing enough without it when we were together before, and that’s what I need tonight. Just you and me. Please?”

“Done,” he said, as he pulled back to look into her eyes. “And your second request, ma’am?”

Lauren tugged gently at the sleeve of his shirt. “Get this off and show me what those tattoos really look like,” she whispered. “I have it on good authority that they actually move…”

“Alright then,” said Charlie, removing his wand from its holster and placing it on Lauren’s coffee table. Not breaking eye contact, he unbuttoned his shorts and slowly slipped them down his legs, lifting one knee and then the other to take them off. The day seemed to have grown hotter and it was a relief to take them off. Throwing them onto the floor, he began to unbutton his shirt, keeping it carefully closed until he had reached the bottom and released all the buttons. 

When he finished, he leaned forward, giving Lauren a deep kiss. She moaned softly into his mouth and began to push his shirt off his shoulders. Charlie laughed at her impatience. “I want to see,” she breathed, with a soft smile. In response, Charlie stood up, tugged Lauren into a standing position by her hand and then turned around and sat on the sofa, encouraging Lauren forward and onto his lap so that she was straddling him. 

Charlie stripped off his shirt and then laid his arms along the back of the low sofa when he was done so she could see his torso.

“Fuck, Charlie.” She reached out with her fingers to stroke him, which made Charlie shudder and caused him to become even harder. 

Lauren gazed at the body that she hadn’t seen for nearly three years, except in her fantasies and dreams. But on this occasion her eyes were drawn quickly from the natural lines of his body and the definition that came from physical work to the lines of the two dragons that were drawn upon her lover. She had seen them both before, of course; the Welsh green on his right shoulder and the Chinese fireball on his left side. That one had always looked to her as if it was covering a scar that she hadn’t wanted to ask about. But before they had been still; unmoving. Now, she saw them as he and other magical folk did; moving pictures that were gently breathing air and smoke and drawing her attention from the wizard between her legs.

“You like them?” he asked, watching her trace her fingers towards the dragon on his shoulder. “She’s friendlier,” he said, “and the other one is a bit feisty…” Lauren explored both, and allowed her fingers to roam the surrounding areas, drawing the attention of the dragons and a couple of hisses from Charlie, especially as she neared the top of his briefs with her fingers.

“I do,” she finally replied, and then, “you like that?” she asked teasingly as she traced the hard outline of his cock through his briefs. 

“Mmmm hmmm.” He could barely speak for lust, and Lauren tugged impatiently at the garment that was keeping her from him. “Wait,” he growled, helping Lauren onto her feet for a moment as he lifted his hips and wriggled the fabric over his cock and down his legs, kicking it off his feet. “You too…” He reached his hands under Lauren’s dress, feeling for the inch of cotton fabric at either side of her knickers and tugging them down. Lauren stepped out of them before settling back onto his now naked lap with a groan. She could barely wait, and started to stroke his cock in her small hands as he reached for the hem of her dress. “Can’t have this staying on, can we love?”

Lauren shifted slightly, reluctantly letting him go and allowing him to lift the dress up and over her head. It took a couple of tries, and she giggled at his efforts. “Haven’t met this one before,” he observed with a smile, and Lauren just gazed at him, allowing him to finish and capturing the gasp of delight that came from his lips when her body was uncovered and she sat on his lap in only a white bra. He made short work of that, tossing it onto the table behind her and was in the process of using his thumbs to begin to explore her tummy and stroke the silvery marks that were the evidence of her having borne his child, when Lauren gave a growl of her own, slipping out of his grasp and bringing one of her feet onto the sofa beside his hip.

“Later, Charlie. Need to fuck you now…” Charlie groaned as she took his cock back into her hand and used her new position to manoeuvre herself above him. She stroked the head of his cock against her wet pussy; once, twice, three times, and then she positioned him carefully and lowered herself upon him, taking his cock inside her and shifting her hips forward so that he sank slowly, deeply into her body.

“Oh fuck,” Charlie’s head fell back against the back of the sofa. And it stayed there for a good few strokes, as Lauren took control of the pace, grinding herself against him, knowing how much this position pleasured them both. She reached her hands out to hold the back of the sofa, either side of Charlie’s head and he took her face in his hands, bringing her mouth to his for another long, deep kiss to which she responded with a moan and a slight increase in the rhythm of her hips. They both knew that this first fuck would be quick; they had waited so long, and they needed a purely physical coupling to satisfy their lust. Charlie moved his hands to cup Lauren’s bottom, and heard her groan in appreciation as he pressed his fingers into her cheeks.

“Not gonna last,” she said.

“Go on, love, come for me.”

And she did. Lauren rocked her pelvis forward six or seven more times before she felt the wave starting, and then she rode it; slowly moving herself on Charlie’s cock, wanting to prolong the feeling as much as she could. She swore a few times and then, as the wave began to abate, looked into Charlie’s eyes and gave a soft laugh of delight.

“My turn?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Whatever you want…” 

What Charlie wanted was more of the same, but with him leading the movement, so he took Lauren’s bottom back into his hands and brought her close to him. Now it was his hips that were doing most of the work, and Lauren was surprised to feel, after a couple of minutes, that she was on the brink of another orgasm. Charlie beat her to it, by a few thrusts, and they both vocalised their passion, their cheeks pressed together as they reached their peaks and then felt a wave of emotion.

For several minutes, they just sat on the sofa, Lauren’s cheek on Charlie’s shoulder; her fingers playing with the leather cord that held his hair back from his face. As she went to pull back slightly, needing to use the loo, she realised that her tummy had stuck to his in the heat of the summer evening and she responded with a soft “eeeew”, giggling as she gently unplastered her skin from his and looked into his eyes. “Oh Charlie,” she sighed, seeing the tears falling from them. He gave a smile, but it was clear that he was completely overcome by the moment.

“I’m just so happy to have found you again, draga mea, and to know we’re going to be together. I spent so long wishing I could find you, love, and it still feels like a dream…” His voice broke, and Lauren kissed his cheek. This time it was she who was holding his face in her hands, and she peppered it with kisses, reassuring him just as she had done earlier with their son.

“You’ve found me now, Charlie Weasley, and I’m not a dream, so you just let it all out, gorgeous,” she told him. 

“I’m OK,” he said. “What was it you used to say about tears being a form of energy?”

Lauren smiled; she remembered saying that earlier in the day as well, when she was talking to his mum, Angelina and Hermione. “That’s pretty much it; they’re certainly nothing to be ashamed of. I desperately need a wee, lovely; can I leave you for a couple of minutes?” 

He gave a nod. “Of course; I’m good.” He looked down at his lap and then gave her a grin. “Just a bit sticky!”

“Stay right there, I’ll get you a washcloth,” Lauren told him, kissing his nose before peeling herself off him and slipping off to the bathroom. Charlie watched her go, still not quite believing his luck in having found the woman who he had missed so much. 

Even as Lauren sat on the loo, she was fishing a couple of washcloths out of the wicker storage chest in which she kept her towels. She ran one under the tap and then wiped over her face, under her arms, over her breasts and then between her legs. The cool, wet cloth felt heavenly in the summer heat. She rinsed it out and used it one more time, deciding not to dry herself and instead to let the air on her wet skin cool her down further. Flushing the loo, she washed her hands, running the cold tap over the inside of her wrists to cool her blood. Next, she took the other clean washcloth and made it wet in the same way, wringing it out a bit so it didn’t drip over the floor on her way back to the living room.

“Here you go, lovely,” she told Charlie as she handed it to him along with a small fluffy towel. “Might help cool you down as well…”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he replied as he used it on his face and neck with a groan of satisfaction before washing himself in almost the same sequence that Lauren had. Not that she noticed; she had bent over to put her cotton dress back on and then headed for the fridge, to open the wine that she had promised Charlie.

“Do you fancy sitting outside?” she called through the doorway, showing him two glasses of rose wine, one of which also contained a couple of ice cubes. When he looked at it and grinned at her, she laughed. “Yes, I know, but I’m so hot, and I’ll drink it in one and get tipsy too quickly otherwise!”

“I might like that, though…” he said, deciding he would prefer his without ice, and drew his briefs back over his hips before following her into the kitchen.

“You hungry?” she asked.

“After one of mum’s lunches?” he raised an eyebrow. “Not really, but I might need something to sustain me if you’re going to use my body like that all night…”

Lauren pulled a wooden stepping stool towards her and stood on it to reach into a cupboard. She emerged with a bag of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa in her hand. Stepping down again, she reached into the fridge for olives, and she somehow managed to balance all of them and her wine glass in her hands while directing Charlie to pick up his own wine and open the door. “Do you want to bring the bottle?” he asked.

“It’ll stay nice and cold in the fridge, though,” Lauren said. She couldn’t bear warm wine. “I don’t have an ice bucket…”

“Or,” Charlie said slowly, watching for her reaction, “I could put a cooling charm on it and it would stay cold out here and we wouldn’t have to get up when we need a top up…”

“Go on then,” she smiled, rolling her eyes teasingly and nodding him towards the fridge and exiting the kitchen to sit in the cooler surrounds of her tiny back garden. “I need an outdoor sofa for evenings like this,” she said, putting the food down on her wooden picnic table and moving to sit on one of the benches. “Especially if I have another adult to sit out and chat with.”

“Or,” Charlie said again, “you could let your friendly neighbourhood wizard conjure something cosy that we could cuddle on while enjoying each other’s company?”

“Really?” 

“Really. I’ll be two ticks while I get my wand…”

When he came back out, Lauren watched, amazed, as Charlie quickly dried his washcloth and then transfigured it into a soft purple sofa which looked very similar to the one on which they used to sit together on the terrace bar in Romania. He then transfigured a fallen twig into a low table on which he set the glasses, wine and food. He sat down to test his creation, putting his arm out and pulling Lauren into a cuddle when she sat down next to him. They clinked glasses, and then kissed once more. “I’m giving you twenty minutes to snack and drink before I jump you again,” she warned, and Charlie gave another low groan, feeling his cock twitch again in anticipation.

“Let me fortify myself then,” he chuckled, taking another sip of his wine. They cuddled and shared food and wine for a few minutes, feeding each other chips, salsa and olives before he spoke again. “Is this our happy ending?” Charlie asked, moving his body slightly to get more comfortable. 

“I think so,” Lauren said. “I’m done with playing the field, and I quite like the adventure of working on a relationship now.”

“Does that mean I get to keep you for the next hundred years or so?”

Lauren laughed. “I don’t know that I’ll live that long, Charlie!”

“You might well do now,” he told her, in a very matter of fact way. “Witches and wizards live longer than non-magical people, and Hermione told me that muggles who live with magical partners have much longer lives than they would have had otherwise. She thinks it’s a combination of having access to magical medicine rather than just the muggle kind, and the fact that being around magic adds years to your life…”

Lauren moved her head and looked into his eyes. “Are you making this up so that you can use your wand with impunity and I can’t complain?”

Charlie laughed loudly, hugging her closer. “Nooooo,” he said, “it’s true, I promise! Ask ‘Mione if you don’t believe me!”

“I will, you know,” she said, a smile on her face too. “Just in case! AND I’ll ask your mum.”

The possibility of a few more decades with Charlie Weasley sounded good though. Three hours later, after they had kissed and make love twice more – once on the purple sofa and then, as the evening grew cooler, on Lauren’s bed – they had settled down for the night. 

Lauren tugged the summer duvet further up her body, turning slightly so that both she and Charlie were comfortable enough to sleep. She smiled as he curled up next to her in just the way she remembered, wanting to ensure that he was touching her before they slept. Stroking his chest with her thumb while watching the Chinese fireball tattoo gently nudge its head against her finger, Lauren heard Charlie’s breathing slowing as he fell asleep. That was a sound that she could happily spend many years listening to, she thought.

It was hard to believe that it was only a week since she had received Hermione’s first email, and she lay awake for a good while as her mind ran through everything that had happened since, marvelling at the new people who had come into her life along with the man who hadn’t left her thoughts since she had walked away from him with a cheeky wave nearly three years ago. 

Her thoughts turned to the following morning. She wanted to go with Charlie to The Burrow to have breakfast and see Elliot before his first day in Charlie’s care, although Lauren was going to suggest that she drive the car back alone and let Charlie apparate or floo with Elliot to their next adventure. That would give her some more thinking time and, if Charlie was happy to keep Elliot busy for most of the day, she could still get through her work emails and perhaps get ahead enough to buy herself some extra time to spend with the two of them later in the week. 

She smiled as she thought of everything she wanted to introduce Charlie to; films, the park, the petting zoo … he didn’t seem to know about any of these things. And her smile became deeper as she remembered his whispered promises, on the transfigured beanbag and amidst their lovemaking, to take her back to Romania, to magical restaurants and even – although she was confident that he was joking on this one – on a flight on a broom. Lauren liked the sound of Angie’s dad’s restaurant, though, and they had Friday’s pizza night at Hermione and Fred’s flat to look forward to as well.

And after that? Lauren didn’t know. She had arrived home with plenty of promises and invitations to spend time with Charlie’s family, and she smiled into his chest as she realised that her social life amidst a family of Weasley proportions was going to be busier than it had been in years. Catching herself, she decided that she needed to stop thinking and try to sleep. If she was going to spend her life with Charlie Weasley as well as his tiny son and any others they might make together in the future, she was going to need some rest.


	41. Hermione's first morning

Fred woke up early on the Monday morning, and his first action was to scoop a still-sleeping Hermione into his arms for a cuddle. “You ready for your week, love?” he asked, and she murmured softly as she nestled closer to him.

“I will be when I’ve made a list,” she replied slowly after a moment or two, eliciting a soft chuckle from Fred. “That’s my top priority … once I have a desk to sit at … then I’ll feel more organised.”

“I love you,” he told her, using his hand to tilt her face upwards so he could kiss her. “I love that you make lists and plans and schedules.”

“Mmmmmm,” she said, still not fully awake. “That’s good … that’s what I’m going to do for the shop,” she smiled. 

Before she could lean in and return Fred’s slow, tender kiss, they heard a loud bang which brought her fully awake. “Fuck!” came George’s voice from the hallway.

“Bloody hell …. he’s up early for a Monday morning … that’s not normal,” said Fred. 

“Are you OK, George?” Hermione called, scrambling out of bed and pulling on her dressing gown. She opened the door and went out into the hallway.

“He’s not very happy, no,” muttered Fred, sensing his twin’s mood through their bond as he got up himself, but Hermione didn’t hear him.

“Oh bother, I’m really sorry,” she said, when she saw what had happened. George appeared to have walked into the box of things that she had placed in the flat’s entrance hall, ready to be taken down to the shop when the boys lifted the wards. She had deliberately put it in front of the main front door to the flat, which was barely ever used, so as not to block the door that led to the shop.

“What the fuck have you got in there, ‘Mione?” George asked, standing on one leg and massaging the toes of the other foot. “The Hogwarts Express? It’s heavy enough.”

“Just some books and a few things to make my desk nice,” she said quietly. “I shrunk the books but I didn’t put a weight-reducing charm on yet. I’m really sorry…” 

“S’OK,” he grumbled. 

“Georgie’s not a morning wizard, as you’ve probably learned by now,” Fred said, using his wand to charm the box and apply a featherweight spell. “What were you doing there anyway?” he asked his brother.

“Trying to answer the bloody door. Didn’t you hear the bell?”

Hermione and Fred shook their heads, and then Hermione blushed a little as she turned to Fred. “We put a silencing spell on our room last night,” she reminded him.

Fred gave her a suggestive wink and then strode forward, moved the box and opened the door. There was nobody there, but a tall pink package had been left on the doorstep. He bent down and peered closely at the tag, causing Hermione to remember that she had not yet talked to Molly about his eyesight, and then picked up the pink parcel with both hands. “It’s for you,” he told Hermione. “Goodness knows why it wasn’t shrunk and sent by owl. It’s quite light. Come on, in we go; we’ll make Georgie some coffee and breakfast and see if we can cheer him up a bit.”

Putting the box under one arm so he could steer his brother with the other, Fred got them to the living room, whereupon he put the box on the table and George on the sofa. Hermione sat down at the other end of the sofa. “I’ll make you coffee,” Fred reassured George with a soft pat on the shoulder, and went into the kitchen. 

Three minutes later, he was back, levitating a large mug for George and two cups of tea for himself and Hermione. He laughed when he entered the living room. Hermione hadn’t had a chance to open her parcel because George had immediately tipped over on the sofa and was fast asleep again with his head in Hermione’s lap. She was gently stroking his hair. “Should we levitate him back to bed?” she asked softly.

“Nah, he’ll never get to work then,” Fred said. “This works better…” He used his wand to make George’s coffee hover in the air a few inches under his nose and, sure enough, after a minute or so, his brother began to stir.

“Ngggghhhhmmmm,” said George, reaching for the mug. Hermione helped him get his fingers around it and, after a few sips, he lifted his head and opened his eyes before dropping back onto Hermione’s lap. “You’re comfy,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she replied. “But I’d like to open my parcel and have a shower … is that possible?”

George made another unintelligible sound as he lifted his head once more. Hermione pulled a large cushion forward and placed it where she had been sitting as she slid out from under him and, this time, the noise emanating from George was more appreciative as he laid his head on it. 

“Flowers!” she exclaimed, as she opened the box. “From Ginny and Harry!” She read the card to herself and then turned to Fred, who was re-entering the room with a plateful of toasted crumpets and a series of pots of jam and preserves trailing behind him. 

“Didn’t know what you liked on them,” he said, by way of explanation for the array of jam and honey before he turned to admire the flowers. “Are they for your first day?” he asked, while adding a blob of strawberry jam onto a crumpet and then passing it to George.

“Yes,” she said, a happy look on her face. “For my desk!” 

“Georgie and I got you welcome presents too, you know? They’re downstairs. And no pranking, like we promised. That’s our other present. We’re going to be on our best behaviour all day,” Fred confirmed.

“Well that’s wonderful … thank you,” Hermione said, through a mouthful of crumpet and honey.

Half an hour later, Fred and Hermione had shared a berry-scented shower in order to save time and were dressed and ready for work. George, by then fortified by his coffee, took great satisfaction in pointing out that sharing wasn’t a particularly effective way of saving time if you took three times as long as you would have taken to shower separately because you stopped to shag halfway through, but they were unrepentant. “We’ll see you down there, Georgie,” Fred called to his brother, who was still getting dressed, as he picked up Hermione’s flowers while she levitated her box.

“Wait, I’m coming!” George called, not wanting to miss out on giving Hermione the grand tour of her desk. He ran out of his bedroom holding his socks and shoes in one hand and waving his wand at his unbrushed hair with the other.

“OK,” Hermione said, stopping Fred until George was ready. “I suppose it would be wrong to go in with just one of you.” Three minutes later, George was ready and the men offered her an arm each as they headed to the door. Unable to get through the door three abreast, she instead took each of their hands in one of hers and walked down the stairs as if they were a crocodile of small children crossing the road.

With it being July, the store was lit by the sun streaming through the windows that looked onto Diagon Alley, but it still brightened considerably when Fred tapped the main switch at the top of the stairs. His action not only switched on the lights but also set off the moving elements of the store’s illumination and display. Hermione stopped and looked around in wonder; she never grew tired of watching the magic that the twins had created, and there was always something new that she hadn’t previously spotted.

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,” they said in unison. “And,” George added, “we’re very, very happy that you’ve come to work with us.”

“But we know it’s not necessarily forever,” said Fred, “and we’ll never mind when you tell us you’re ready to move on. We only want happy people here, love.”

“And that means we need to show you the most important room first,” George popped up, pulling Hermione’s hand to a door that she hadn’t previously noticed.

“Oh, the loo?” she laughed, as they walked into an area that was hidden behind a screen and which looked like a cloakroom. 

“Yes, but not just that,” said Fred. “This is the staff happiness area. Augeo,” he said, while spiralling his wand, and the room seemed to expand in size. 

“Staff loo,” indicated George, showing her a bathroom which had a shower as well as a loo and which looked more like one you would find in a home than a shop, “and sitting room,” he pointed to an area with a fridge and a few soft chairs before sweeping his arm further to his right, indicating a day bed, “and the Verity Brown relaxation arena…”

“Named for our favourite shop manager,” Fred continued, “but actually for anyone who needs a break from the noise. If you lay on the bed and tap the daydream charm with your wand, it closes off the area from all external noise and makes it dark for twenty minutes.”

“Daydreams optional,” George grinned. “The rest of us can still get to the loo and the fridge, but we only disturb anyone in here in a real emergency.”

“And no pranking while I’m in there,” came a voice from the doorway, and all three of them turned round to greet Lee, who was closely followed by Verity herself.

“Morning bosses,” she said, and the next few minutes were full of greetings and welcomes for Hermione, whose arrival had been much anticipated by both Verity and Lee.

“We won’t be open for another twenty minutes,” Fred said, “so let’s have a quick staff meeting. Does anyone need breakfast or a drink?” he asked, but both Lee and Verity shook their heads.

“One policy that’s very important to us,” George explained to Hermione as they all settled into chairs, “is that we treat all staff very well, especially when it comes to replenishing their reserves. We keep the fridge fully stocked, we always buy lunch and, if there’s ever a need to work late, we shout dinner and beers.”

“It’s what we’d want if we had jobs,” Fred said, “and we reckon that, if we treat those who work for us well, they’ll work hard for our business and want to stay with us.”

Hermione nodded. “That sounds like a great policy.” 

“It works for us,” said Verity. “Lee came here straight from Hogwarts, so he doesn’t know any different, but I’ve had other jobs and this is the first one that I can’t imagine wanting to leave. Especially now I’ve got my chilling zone!” she smiled. 

“It looked great,” exclaimed Hermione. “Do you mind if I try it sometime?” 

“Of course not,” Verity said. Then she leaned in, smiling. “Though I like to have dibs on it for my Saturday lunch break and in the last week before Hogwarts starts back!”

“Fair enough,” laughed Hermione, holding up her palms. “I’ll steer clear at those times!”

“Not that any of us know how it’ll go this year, what with everything…” George trailed off. He didn’t need to finish the sentence, because they all understood. Hogwarts was being rebuilt, and they had all helped in that process. Their beloved school would again welcome students in September, but it wasn’t yet clear how many students would be going back after their studies had been interrupted by the war.

“But we’re all assuming that it’ll be busy,” Lee added, looking between Fred and George. “Like you’ve both always said, people need a reason to laugh more now and Vee and I are seeing an uptick in customer numbers, so we don’t want to be unprepared.”

Hermione nodded. She needed to know this stuff, and she made a mental note to talk to Verity and Lee and get their thoughts.

“We’re going to have a party on September second this year,” Fred told Hermione. “We’ll all be too knackered on the first, just after they’ve all gone, but on the second, we’re going to take these two out for drinks to celebrate the end of the rush. You too, of course.”

“That sounds great. I’m hoping that I can help with some of that as well. Not by muscling in on your jobs,” Hermione added quickly, “but with some of the planning and stock control.”

“Just so we’re all on the same page,” Fred said, “let’s give Hermione a summary of last weeks’ conversation.”

“That’s a good idea,” George said. 

“Our plan,” Fred continued, “is that Verity and Lee will be the general managers and be solely responsible for running this shop.”

George took over. “They already do many of the day-to-day things, like cashing up, and now we’re rebuilding, they’re going to do more of the hiring and firing, all that stuff. We like to visit the shop floor and engage with customers, but we don’t want to be rostered onto the shop floor; we want to create and test and make and do the more innovative things that we love to do.”

“Sounds very sensible,” Hermione said, nodding.

“We have a few other people who will help out for a few hours at the till when it’s busy,” Fred interjected, “or with making some of the products.”

“Yeah,” said George. “People we can trust, like Ange, when she has days off. And Ron does a few hours when his training allows; he likes the extra money.”

“Meant to say to you, Georgie, that it might be worth mentioning to Charlie that we have hours if he would like something to do … he’s great at transfiguration...”

George looked eager. “Good idea, Freddie. And,” he continued his earlier train of thought, “we don’t want to be tied to always working weekends, even though Saturday is our busiest day. We’re doing that a bit at the moment, as you know, while we get things straight, and especially when things get crazy, like it did this Saturday, but we need the shop to work independently of us. And in the long term, if we decide to expand and open other branches, one of these guys,” he indicated Lee and Verity, “can stay here, and one can travel and oversee the setup and training of staff in the new shop.”

“Unless we are affected by the marriage law threat that everyone’s talking about in relation to you two being all over this morning’s Prophet,” said Verity, pulling a face. “Which you probably know more about than me…”

“Oh Merlin,” Fred exclaimed. “I had completely forgotten…”

Lee reached into his rucksack and handed Fred a rolled-up copy of the newspaper. “Keep it, mate,” he said. “Got it for you when I saw the cover.”

There, on the front, were Fred and Hermione, waving to the camera in their wedding finery and clearly finding it hard to keep their eyes and hands off each other. Another photo showed the two coming down the treehouse rope while gazing into each other’s eyes, and they looked at each other as they remembered that moment.

“Yes, it’s all very romantic,” said Verity, though she smiled at their closeness before she became serious again, “but there are rumours flying around the Alley that the Ministry is leading up to an announcement about a marriage law.”

Fred and Hermione looked at each other again. They hadn’t anticipated this. They knew exactly what Kingsley had planned, but it hadn’t occurred to them that others might ask them, and it hadn’t occurred to them to ask Kingsley how they should respond.

“I can honestly say,” said Hermione, thinking quickly, “that I am not aware of any plan for a marriage law at the moment. I do know that the Ministry are keen to encourage marriage and babies, to help increase the population after the war, and that’s why we agreed to let them run our story.” She looked at Lee, who was shifting closer to Verity.

“See?” he said, raising his eyebrows at her and slinking an arm around the dark-haired witch. “Told you you should let me take you out after work one night… Even the Ministry would approve…”

Verity rolled her eyes at him. “And risk ruining a brilliant business relationship and the best job I’ve ever had? You’re not THAT sexy, Jordan!”

Lee pulled a sad face as he looked at Hermione. “Well,” she consoled him, with a look in Verity’s direction to try and gauge the witch’s true feelings, “she didn’t say you weren’t at all sexy, Lee … she said you weren’t sexy enough. Maybe you just need to up your game…”

“Hermione!” Verity exclaimed, laughing. “You need to be on my side, girl, and don’t encourage him!” 

“Forsooth!” Lee replied, diving to his knees in front of Hermione, dramatically thrusting the back of his hand to his forehead and pretending to swoon as he grabbed for Hermione’s hand. “You do so need to help me, oh clever witch, for else how will I win the fair lady’s heart?”

It didn’t escape Hermione’s attention that, while Fred was grinning madly at their antics, George seemed less engaged. She touched his knee and whispered to ask if he was OK. He nodded. “Just need another coffee,” he said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“In seriousness,” Lee said, tapping the paper as he scrambled back into his chair, “it occurred to Verity and I that we might be busier than usual today with people coming in to try and catch a glimpse of the newlyweds…”

“That’s a good point,” George said, re-entering the conversation. “But we’re planning to be out back this morning, so we’ll see how it goes for the first hour or two, if you two can manage?”

“Course we can, boss,” said Verity.

“I’ll disillusion your ear if you like,” George offered, looking in Fred’s direction, “and we can take turns being me.”

“Or,” Fred replied, “you could put on the nice ear that I made you and we could both be me and use it as an opportunity to get more business!”

“Hmmm, that’s an idea…” George looked thoughtful. “Freddie and I don’t really have a normal working pattern at the moment,” he said, returning to the previous conversation and addressing Hermione, “as you might have noticed.”

“But we’re hoping,” said Fred, “that once you’ve joined us, we can get back to a more normal working week, which is what we were doing before the war escalated…”

“…although we’ll always need a bit of flexibility…” George continued.

“Yes,” Fred took over again. “Like when we’re inventing or restocking and need to pop down in the evening to add something to a potion, but the flip side of that is that we can take time off at other times when we want too.”

They both grinned at her, proud of what they had come up with. They had worked hard before the war to create a way of working that suited them and their employees, and were happy to tell Hermione all about it.

She nodded, and reached for each of them. “This all sounds really great, guys. I’m really confident I can help make it run even more smoothly.”

“Well then,” George finished, “shall we escort you to your desk?”

After another quick chat with Verity and Lee, during which they did a quick assessment of what the twins needed to stock up on that morning, Fred and George led Hermione out of the staff area and took her briefly up the spiral staircase in the centre of the shop to point out the main zones of the store before leading her to the back of the shop. “This is all totally private and warded to customers,” said Fred. “Family allowed, of course, and I know you’ve been here before, but we’ll get Bill to key you into the wards so that you can bring guests of your own and use the emergency cupboard too.”

“Cupboard?” she asked, and they grinned.

“Emergency apparition point,” they said in unison. 

“No-one knows about it except us and Bill,” Fred said. “It’s how George got home when we had the wards up and the floo closed when Lauren and Charlie were meeting here.”

Hermione’s mouth made an ‘O’. That hadn’t occurred to her. She felt a rush of pleasure at the cleverness of her husband and his twin, not to mention the fact that they could still surprise and impress her.

“We’ll sort that later in the week,” George promised. “Office. I’m excited to show you your office; we spent ages making it nice for you.”

When she reached the office that the boys shared, Hermione was touched to see that they had given her an entire corner to call her own. Their own desks were angled so that they could easily see and talk to each other, and both of them had a large space, although much of it was covered with notes, products and experiments. Her desk was the same size as theirs but, in accordance with her request, she had a space of her own over the other side of the room which they had promised not to encroach upon. Gasping in delight, she looked at her patch of ceiling, which they had charmed to look like the sky, with soft clouds, and a window through which she could see a beautiful garden. Hermione frowned, not understanding how this could be.

“It looks onto the back of Diagon Alley,” Fred explained with a shrug. “Just stairs and bins and stuff … not very salubrious. So we made you that. You can use this,” he pointed to a dial, “and we’ve preset some options, though you can make your own too. It uses the same sort of magic as our famous patented daydream charms.”

Hermione turned the dial slowly. The garden shifted to show a flowing river, a depiction of Paris at night and then a meadow of wild flowers. She turned it again to see a rainforest, complete with pattering rain, and then the Devon beach on which she and Fred had spent their honeymoon. 

“Oooooh,” she said, tipping her head to one side and enjoying the sound of the waves, “I like this one. We’ll have this today, I think. Oh, and that’s a point…” She opened her box and pulled out a muggle notepad and pen. “Date night Wednesday,” she said. “Pizza night Friday. Seamus phone. Molly glasses. I’ve got so much going on that I’m making a list so I don’t forget anything,” she explained, writing a few more things down before putting her pen on the desk.

“Or,” said George, presenting her with a long box, which she quickly opened, “You could use this. I promised you one when Mum was making your wedding list, remember?”

“I do! Thank you!” Hermione exclaimed, gleefully pulling her very own list-making quill out of its box and setting it to work.

Turning around to see the rest of her work space, Hermione ran her fingers over the wood of the desk and then smiled when she saw three framed photos that Fred and George had put on it. There was one of her and Fred on their wedding day, one of herself, Ron and Harry and one of the entire Weasley family. The last one had been taken when she was a fourth year, Hermione thought. She had never noticed but, if you watched Fred, you could see him sneaking a tiny glance at Hermione before his attention swung back to George. She loved it and reached out to touch the frame. “I got those from Mum,” Fred said proudly.

George gave her a gift-wrapped parcel, just as proudly. “And I made this for you. It’s for your wall,” he said. 

Hermione took it from him with a quiet thank you, held it to her ear and tentatively shook it. 

“It’s not a prank, I promise,” he said, and he looked – and felt – sincere enough that she decided to throw caution to the wind and tear the paper off in just a couple of movements. Her heart swelled as she saw the sign that he had made her, out of a bit of wood “Strictly no testing on firsties,” she read, using her finger to trace the words that he had carved on with his wand. Hermione laughed loudly, pulling him towards her for a heartfelt hug. She loved the sheer volume of history that she had with these two men.

“And there’s my whiteboard,” George said, pointing to the space between his desk and Hermione’s. “I bought it because I thought it would help us plan, but,” he grinned, sheepishly, “I don’t really know what to do with it, so I wondered if you might help?”

“I’d love to,” Hermione said. “I’ll help you figure out how to make a plan, don’t worry.”

“I put it between my desk and yours because it’ll be us that uses it. Fred’s crap at writing things down; he just remembers it all in his head. We only have a recipe book because of me!” He rolled his eyes.

Fred walked over to his own desk while they were talking and sat on the edge of it. He had a chair but, Hermione would come to learn, rarely used it. He preferred to sit on his desk or to walk around while he thought. Hermione was the opposite; she usually needed to sit down in order to be able to think properly. She settled into the office chair that they had provided for her and then reached for the lever that would adjust it. Notching it a bit lower, she then spun it around a couple of times before running her fingers over her desk again and then levitating her flowers onto the corner of her desk.

“This is bloody marvellous,” she announced. “I’m going to like it here. Now, where shall we start?”

“You keep going with your list,” said Fred. “We can show you the rest of the back of the shop later, but Georgie and I need to work on our new recipe,” he said, as they both jumped up and headed out of the office. Hermione barely noticed; she was too busy writing more things down, delighted with her new surroundings and even happier that she finally had time to get herself organised.

Twenty minutes later, she had not only completed her list but had taken the original, unordered list and turned it into several lists. Hermione smiled as she looked at them, feeling proud of her organisational skills and much better about her ability to handle the coming weeks. In fact, she decided, such a feat called for a celebratory cup of herbal tea. As she reached for her mug, though, a horrible sensation ripped through her. She knew immediately that George was hurt. Reassuring them both through the bond that she was on her way to help, Hermione reached for her wand and began to run towards the workroom.


	42. A surprise visit

Hermione arrived in the workroom to find George with a burned hand which looked to be under a hastily applied healing and cooling charm and Fred with a long arm around his twin, leading him into the next room. 

“Come on, mate,” he said reassuringly. “It’ll only take a tick. You too, love,” he said to Hermione, holding out the fingers of the hand that wasn’t around George’s shoulder.

Hermione skipped to catch up, took Fred’s hand and followed the two men. She barely had time to wonder at the shelves of protective clothing and what looked like magical firework-based weaponry products that were clearly meant for the Ministry before Fred pulled her into a tall wardrobe at the back of the room.

“Hold on, love,” he said. “Georgie now, explanations later.” 

Hermione murmured, “of course,” and put her own arm around George as well. She could feel that his pain had reduced, but still had an irresistible urge to comfort her husband’s twin.

“I’m alright, love,” he said, but whatever would have followed that was lost in the whoosh of magical transport as the cupboard took them directly to St Mungos.

Except, Hermione realised as they stepped out of the cupboard again, they weren’t in St Mungo’s at all. They were in the infirmary at Hogwarts, and Madam Pomfrey was bustling towards them, wand in hand and all business.

“What is it this time, boys?” she asked, not unkindly.

“Potion burn, left hand,” said Fred. “I applied the emergency healing and cooling charm you taught us, but it’s quite deep, so thought we’d better ask you rather than try and heal it ourselves. We rather need full range of finger movement in our line of work, so best bring it to a professional, I thought...”

“Yes, definitely,” said the witch who had seen the twins and Hermione through all their years of schooling. “Over here, George,” she said, pointing him to a bed and summoning things as she did. “Lovely to see you, Hermione … or Mrs Granger-Weasley, I hear it is now,” she smiled. “Minerva told me all about your wedding and I saw this morning’s Prophet ... we've just started having owls deliver it again at breakfast.” Then she was all business again. “Kindly fetch me that jar of balm, yes, the yellow one … I don’t like to accio things towards patients,” she explained.

Fred deposited George onto the bed and then climbed up beside him, generating a shake of Madam Pomfrey’s head followed by a knowing and kindly smile borne from long familiarity of the twins’ need to be close to each other, especially in times of strife. Her only practical response was to enlarge the bed so that both men fitted in better. The healer got straight to work, tending George’s hand with spells and then applying the thick yellow balm, which caused him to groan with relief.

“That feels bloody lovely, thank you,” he said. 

“Language, George,” she warned. “We’ve discussed this before … I still have small patients as well, you know. Our agreement doesn’t mean you can break the rules! Although,” she looked at Hermione, “they didn’t obey my rules when they were students here, so I don’t know why I think they’re going to respect them now!”

“We respect you enormously,” said Fred, with a grin.

Poppy Pomfrey simply raised her eyebrows with a small smile. “I know you do, Fred,” she said, patting him. “Now, your brother’s going to be fine, but I think we ought to confine him to desk and shop work for the rest of the day and not stress that hand with any more potion-making or strenuous activity. Keep the bandage on overnight to keep the balm in place and then you can take it off in the morning and the skin should be as good as new.”

Hermione was looking between the three of them, so many questions filling her mind.

“Agreement?” she asked first, looking between the three of them. “And…” she looked at Madam Pomfrey, who had been very kind to her during her stays in the infirmary. One couldn’t be friends with Harry and Ron without ending up here on a fairly regular basis, either as the recipient of Madam Pomfrey’s care or as a visitor. Not that Madam Pomfrey had ever particularly approved of her patients having visitors, Hermione remembered with a smile. “You know who’s who?”

The older witch smiled again. “Of course I do,” she said. “My job is all about observation and making assessments of people’s wellbeing from the moment they enter the room. I’ve started my examination before they reach a bed. These two aren’t difficult to tell apart, as I’m sure you know yourself,” she gave Hermione a questioning glance.

Hermione smiled and nodded. “Yes, but it always surprises me how many people don’t take that care and time,” she trailed off, not wanting to say more about that in front of Fred and George. She wasn’t sure how they felt about it.

“It doesn’t bother us when people don’t,” said Fred. 

“But,” George chipped in, “we do have a special place in our hearts for those who make the effort.”

“Hence our agreement,” said Fred. “Though it sort of just extended after the war,” he grinned.

“Fred and George may not have told you the full details, by the sound of it,” Poppy added, seeing the twins’ looking at each other, “but one of their contributions before and during the war was to create and supply medicines and healing potions for those in need. And I was the centre of distribution … I was the last person that would be suspected, so it was an obvious choice really,” she shrugged.

“What Poppy isn’t telling you,” Fred said, “is that she took great risks herself to get things to where they were needed. Helping the muggleborns that needed to escape. Helping students who were being hurt.”

“And what these boys also might not have told you,” Poppy said, “is that they would come over sometimes in the evenings to help tend and cheer up those who needed it. They would bring tricks and games and all sorts.” Hermione tipped her head and looked at Fred and George, who were trying to shrug off the praise a bit. “I became worried about their safety,” Poppy continued, “they were apparating to outside the gates and walking in, and with the Carrows around..." she trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence. "So Minerva helped us create the cupboards, which also meant we had a safe route out … for her and I to take ourselves or others into the shop and thus Diagon Alley if we ever needed it.”

“Luckily they didn’t,” said George.

“And now,” Poppy continued, “we have an agreement that the boys will keep us supplied with the best of their healing products and, in return, they can pop here rather than St Mungos whenever they need treatment for minor injuries. Which is,” she sighed, looking between the two grinning men, “more often than I would like from the perspective of their wellbeing, but very enjoyable for an old woman who likes seeing how her favourite scamps are getting on.” She smiled fondly at them and Fred swung his legs off the bed.

“Shall I put the kettle on?” he asked, and Poppy nodded.

“Go on then,” she smiled, rolling her eyes again, “and I’ll call for biscuits.” She walked off towards her office, and Fred headed to the infirmary’s kitchen.

“I’ll let Verity know we’re here as well,” he called to George and Hermione, who remained at his bedside. 

“Are you OK, Georgie?” Hermione asked him, climbing up onto the bed where Fred had sat. George put his arm around her to help her up and then left it there. She settled into his side.

“Yeah, I’m alright, love,” he said. “Thanks. Stupid mistake, should have known better. Wasn’t paying enough attention…”

Hermione decided not to comment on that. George was well aware of how his worries were affecting him and he didn’t need Hermione to interfere.

“Do you want me to contact Angie?” she asked softly. “I could send my patronus if you like?”

George wrinkled his nose. “Can’t, love. She’s at practice. They have blocking charms on the pitch; can’t have players being distracted by outside communications. We can contact the office if there’s an emergency but,” he looked down at the bandaged hand, “it’s not really life and death, is it, and I don’t want to be needy…”

“We could owl when we get back to the shop though?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “That would be good. Maybe she’ll be able to get off early and cuddle me,” he said.

“That sounds nice. We’ll find her as soon as we can,” she reassured him. “In the meantime,” Hermione smiled, having thought of a way to cheer him up, “do magical people ever have cartoons and pictures on their bandages?”

George’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

“Well,” Hermione said as she took George’s arm into her hand and raised her wand, “muggle parents can buy special plasters for when their kids get hurt, and they have happy cartoons and things on them. Let’s see…” George watched with brotherly affection as her mouth formed several different shapes while she was working, and he deliberately didn’t look at his hand until she had finished. “There,” she said finally, indicating that he should look. When he did, he almost squealed with delight.

“That’s brilliant!” he exclaimed. Hermione had covered his bandage with colourful spirals and starbursts, to look like fireworks. She had drawn a few rockets, with trails of sparks following them, and a few ‘WWW’s to fill in the gaps.

“We could probably get them to move, like Charlie’s tattoos,” she said, a bit apologetically, “but I don’t know a spell for that.”

“I might,” he winked, and pulled his own wand out of its holster. A couple of minutes later, he had animated her artwork and they both watched as the fireworks danced around.

“I knew the three of you would have even more potential in combination,” a familiar voice said from George’s other side. To their mutual further delight, Poppy hadn’t just called for biscuits; she had called down to the Headmistress’ Office as well, and Minerva had come to join them. “Are you treating my favourite student well?” she continued, looking at Fred as he arrived with the tea.

“She is,” he replied cheekily. “She understands my need for Georgie time and we’ve got off to a good start. Thanks for asking,” he winked, as Hermione shook her head, laughing.

“I’m very happy too, thank you,” she reassured her old professor.

“That’s good then,” said Minerva, smiling at them both. After proper greetings and hugs had been exchanged, they spent a happy half hour exchanging news – most pressingly of Charlie’s newfound family, which thrilled Minerva. Charlie had been another of her favourites, as the star seeker of her beloved cup-winning quidditch team – and catching up on what had happened in all their lives since the wedding. 

“Do let them know I’m available to chat anytime if it would help,” she said to Hermione.

“I will,” Hermione nodded. “There’s one thing in particular that Lauren’s curious about,” she said, “but I don’t know the answer to. Elliot appears to know when someone is about to apparate in; he announces it by saying ‘whoosh’ a few seconds before they appear, and none of us have any idea as to why that might be.”

Minerva’s eyes widened. “Really?” she asked, looking thoughtful. “That’s very interesting…”

“Do you think it could be some sort of divination?” Poppy asked, looking at her old friend.

Minerva pursed her lips, tipping her head to one side. Fred and George looked at each other. They had the distinct and shared impression that Minerva knew more than she wanted to say. “It’s a possibility, though it’s a rather specific manifestation, especially in one so young.” She turned to look between their three visitors. “He was conceived in Romania?”

Hermione nodded in confirmation.

“Was there anything unusual about his birth?”

“Not that I know of,” Hermione said. “From what Lauren said, he was born at home and it was all very straightforward. I think she said she had him in a pool, but I’m not sure.”

“Anything else you’ve noticed?” Minerva asked.

Hermione pulled a face, thinking. “He’s really advanced for his age intellectually, though his mum's really clever ... has a PhD, so that’s not really surprising. He’s emotionally mature too, but physically a bit … behind, would you say?” She looked at Fred and George.

Fred shrugged, twisting his mouth a bit as he considered how to put it nicely. “Well at this stage I wouldn’t do any quidditch succession planning around him, bless him,” he told the Headmistress with an apologetic smile. “Not that we’ve put him on a broom yet, but he’s not very co-ordinated. I’m sure we’ll supply you with a whole new Gryffindor team between us in about fifteen years time; I’m just not sure it’ll be Elliot’s thing…” he trailed off, shaking his head with a smile as he remembered his and George’s efforts to teach their nephew to throw and catch. 

“He’s gorgeous; you’ll love him,” George assured her. 

Fred nodded vigorously in agreement. “And he’ll be top of the class, like my lovely wife here.”

“That’ll do me very nicely then,” Minerva smiled. Then she looked back at Hermione. “Let me do some research. I have an idea that I want to look into, but it’s what these two would call a long shot and I’m not sure if I’m thinking in the right direction or not. I’ll get back to you,” she promised.

“Thank you,” said Hermione. “I’m sure Lauren would love to meet you. Charlie’s planning to come back to England for good,” she smiled to see Minerva’s face light up at that, “but I imagine they might be a bit back and forth for a few weeks while they sort everything out…”

“It might take me that long to look into this, so that will work out,” Minerva said. “Look, it’s been lovely,” she added, standing up, “but I need to get back to my office … so much to do before the term starts.”

“Let us know what we can do to help,” Fred said.

“Yes,” said George and Hermione, at the same time, laughing at the coincidence and feeling a jolt of shared happiness through their bond. Hermione felt grateful that George was still enjoying moments of happiness despite his deeper worries. 

“And thank you,” George said to Poppy, giving her a quick hug before he followed the others to the cupboard.

When they returned, they discovered that Lee had been right. The article in The Prophet had brought more people than usual to the twins’ shop, perhaps hoping to catch a glance of the happy couple. No-one had actually asked for them though, he told them when he came back to see how George was. In fact, he added, he and Verity had been happy to put their usually slow Monday morning to good use by opening a couple of samples of glitterbubble products and offering demonstrations, which had led to a few more sales than usual. 

“Nice one, mate, thank you,” George had said. “I’m on light duties for the day, by the way … do you want me to come up front so you and Verity can have a break?”

Lee shook his head. “No need. Vee’s managing everything for a bit while I’m out here and I can do the same if she wants to go in the back for a break. But,” he winked, “spending my break with her gives me more time to work on her…” 

“Good luck with that then,” Fred grinned.

“I just love all this romance,” said Hermione, when the three of them returned to their office again. “In fact…”

“Oooooh,” Fred said, “I can sense your marketing brain working.”

“Well,” she continued, “if it’s a good time, I could tell you about a couple of ideas I have, and you two can discuss it whenever you want and tell me what you think.” Hermione stood up and went to sit at her desk. She wanted to be able to have her new quill write notes, and the twins smiled at how business-like she looked.

George and Fred looked at each other. “Sounds good,” George said. “Though we’re pretty open and flexible, if you have ideas that can help us sell more, especially to witches.”

“Yeah,” Fred added. “When we had to close because of the war, we were well on the way to having the joke and prank and wizard gift market covered, and that’s picking up well again already, and we have the private lines that we sell to places like the Ministry, but the only things we have for witches are the glitterbubble products, and even that’s only really because of Angelina and Ginny being willing to help us out with all our questions and test products.”

Hermione nodded. “OK,” she said, putting her quill down. “I’d like to suggest that we focus my efforts on two main areas, at least to start with. One being the seasonal stuff, and the other being year-round gift baskets and other products for witches. I’d like you to consider allocating me two spaces in the shop; one for a selection of gifts for witches, and we can put things like your mum’s suggested gift baskets in there.”

“That was a great idea,” said George, and Fred nodded.

“I’m all over it,” Hermione replied. “I made a date with her yesterday to learn to make a potion with her next week, and I’m going to talk to her more then.” Fred blew her a kiss. “But my idea to expand the glitterbubble range is to make a series of gift baskets. We can have baskets for older women, baskets of just the glitterbubble bath things and I thought about a monthly treat gift basket for witches.” She listed ideas on her fingers. “Pain potion, a herb pillow which can be charmed with a heating spell, like George did for me the other week, a couple of small bottles of glitterbubble bath oils … maybe a packet of chocolate truffles. We could even add the pain potion to the truffles themselves, we’ll have to do a bit of market research and see what’s best.”

Her quill was going non-stop.

“Who would buy them?” asked Fred. “The witches themselves or their wizards?” 

“Or their witches? We don’t want to forget witches who love witches…” George added, and Fred nodded. 

“Of course. Or friends, maybe?”

“Great question,” Hermione said. “And it brings me to whether we can set up some sort of system so we can research what sells well and who buys it. We can try different things, like aiming those baskets towards witches themselves or aiming them towards their partners, and see what works.”

“Like a spell on the till?” Fred asked.

Hermione shrugged. “I don’t know, really. I was hoping you two might have an idea.”

George touched her arm. “Leave it with us. This is just the sort of question we’re good at. We’ll chuck it around a bit, and we’ll think of something; like with my restocking spell. We always do.” He grinned, and she felt a wave of gratitude and reassurance through the bond.

“I’m also wondering whether we could help the Ministry and the need for romance AND the shop by coming up with ideas for date gifts, or even a sort of ‘date night in a basket’,” she said, not sure how George and Fred would respond to that.

The two men looked at each other. “That’s bloody brilliant,” George said. 

“We should definitely think about that,” Fred agreed.

Hermione beamed. She loved that her planning and ideas were so valued here.

“For now though,” Fred said, “shall we leave you in peace to work on your lists and plans? I need to get back to the workroom and I need to borrow Georgie to tell me what to do with the potion he can’t now finish,” he pulled a long-suffering face in jest, and Hermione laughed.

“That sounds great; I’ll be fine,” Hermione reassured him. In truth, the morning had already been rather full, and it was barely eleven. She could do with a bit of time to herself and she smiled as she watched the twins head out the door. 

When they reached the stock room, Fred jumped up on the table. “George…” he began, and then trailed off.

George looked up, a bit surprised. Fred didn’t often address him by his whole, real name when they were alone.

“Freddie?” he said, leaving it at that in the hope that Fred would expand on whatever was bothering him.

“What’s up?”

George sighed. “I could ask you the same…”

“I asked first, though.”

“Alright,” George said, with a sigh. “I suppose it hit me a bit that, when I was hurt, ‘Mione was here and beside me in less than a minute, and Ange still doesn’t even know…”

“Oh fuck,” said Fred. “We haven’t owled. Shall I do it before we carry on?”

George shook his head and shrugged. “Another few minutes isn’t going to make a difference.”

“As soon as we’re done, though…”

George nodded at Fred’s words. “What about you then?”

Fred winced before looking directly into his twin’s eyes. “I don’t know how to say this, mate, especially after hearing that. But we’ve always been honest with each other…”

George’s nodding was continuing, albeit slowly. “But you need more alone time with ‘Mione and I need to cope with that. I know…”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be…” He swallowed.

“I am though. I don’t want to cut you out.”

“Freddie, it’s only now and again. Take her out tonight. Or stay in and defile another room in the flat and I’ll go to Mum’s if Ange isn’t free. I’ll be OK.”

“But you’re hurting…”

“Yeah.” George shrugged. He couldn’t lie to Fred even if he wanted to. Not that he had ever wanted to. 

“And even our budding shop romance has you twitchy,” Fred’s thumb jerked towards the main part of the store where Lee was probably continuing to flirt with Verity.

George smiled a bit at that. “I’m happy for them. Really. We should help stir it up a bit. But all this romance … and it’s just going to get worse with Kings’ stuff…” he trailed off. “But, do you know what, mate,” he sat up straighter. “It’s my shit and I’m happy for you and Charlie, and for Lee, if he can get his act together. And we need to get Ron a confidence potion too, but there’s nothing I can do about my own problem, is there? So I need to buck up and learn to live with it. And besides,” he held out his hand, and Fred smiled, despite the seriousness of the conversation, at the fireworks that were still whizzing around his bandage, “maybe I’ll get a sympathy shag!”

Fred stepped forward and took his brother in his arms. “How can I make it OK?” he asked.

“Don’t think you can,” George said gruffly, a bit closer to tears than he would have liked. “We’ve been together for nearly three years, and yet the bonding means I’ve now got a closer communication link with your wife than with my own girlfriend.” He shrugged. “No-one’s fault, just one of those things. I’d bond with Ange right now if she’d let me, but…” He trailed off, because they both knew how that sentence ended. A full bonding of the kind that Fred and Hermione had would mean the end of Angelina’s quidditch career, and George would never ask her for that. Better to hide his pain from everyone but his twin and hope that he could find a way to get through it.


	43. Weasleys' Wizard Coffee Break

“We just wanted to show you the owls,” George said, pointing upwards. Hermione’s mouth fell open. They had taken one of the high windows and extended it into a small owlery, where the three shop owls could roost and seek solitude from the bustle and noise. “The window’s always open, so they can come and go, and this,” he indicated a tube contraption which ended in a padded box back in the corner of Fred and George’s – and now also Hermione’s – office, “is where our mail is delivered.”

“I reckon Oswald wouldn’t allow the flowers to come here,” Fred said, calling their first and eldest owl down so that he could take a note to Angelina. “He has appointed himself postmaster, and even though this is magically padded as well, if he thinks anything is too fragile to be sent down the chute then he brings it to us personally or has it sent to the front door.”

Hermione looked up and the wide-eyed owl was blinking down at her. “You’re a good boy,” she told him, and she could have sworn that he nodded. “Oh!” She touched Fred’s hand, remembering something. “Owl treats. I need to put buying owl treats on my list.” She looked around, but she had left her pad on her desk.

“We have loads here,” George said, reaching into a set of drawers next to the delivery chute and giving a large unopened bag of treats to Hermione as Fred gave Oswald one last scratch before sending him on his way to Angelina. “But you don’t have an owl, ‘Mione, do you?”

“No,” she shook her head. “But Charlie’s Elena is at Shell Cottage because there’s no owl food at Lauren’s, and he mentioned yesterday that he’d like to have Elena be based at Lauren’s for now so we can teach her how to use owls. Until we get a better form of communication sorted.”

“Like your phone thing?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. I want to talk to Seamus about that.”

“These phones,” Fred said, “will we all have them?”

Hermione shook her head. “I can’t see that being very economical. They cost a fair bit to buy and run, and if Lauren could get hold of one or two of us then we could contact the others by magical means if necessary.” 

“If you have one of these phonies,” George asked, “can you contact any of the others, or just specific other phonies?”

Before she could even smile at his new word, Hermione’s mouth opened again as she picked up George’s mental picture, which was then enhanced by Fred. Within less than a minute, she had not only witnessed their creation of a new idea – the invention of a magical device that each of the Weasley family could have and that would allow communication between everyone – but their exchange of a variety of ideas about how they could make it happen. Faster than they could have exchanged words, she saw them trying out a series of muggle household items that Lauren could carry in her handbag without arousing suspicion and the boys could carry in their robes pockets and then moving onto mentally discussing and debating the magic that would be needed to make them work.

“Phonies would be a good word, actually” Hermione laughed, realising what they were creating. “We’d need different charms for ours and Lauren’s though,” she said, still unable to add her picture as quickly as they did through the bond. Or maybe, she thought, it was just that she was just faster at verbal communication than the mental kind that they used. They had had many more years of practice at sharing their thoughts, after all. “Hers needs to be activated by something other than magic, of course.”

“These actual phone things,” said Fred. “Can you get us one? Maybe we could make Lauren’s from a real phone, then it wouldn’t seem odd when she was with other muggles. Ours…”

“We could make ours from mirrors, maybe,” said George, “and use a charm a bit like the one you used for the DA coins.”

“You can get tiny mirrors that open and close, like a clam shell” Hermione said. When they didn’t understand the term, she closed her eyes and pictured what she meant in her mind for them. It took her longer than it did them but, after a few moments, they understood.

“And we could have it so that it would reflect the face of the person speaking,” said Fred. “Even Lauren, I think, if we created it well enough. Those muggle phones have buttons, right?”

Hermione nodded eagerly. She was still awed at being able to sense his thoughts. He was putting together the idea of muggle phone numbers – which he knew about from when they had talked about why Charlie hadn’t been able to find Lauren for so long – with the notion of Lauren being able to ‘dial’ and call the mirror of any given family member. The magical family members wouldn’t need that; they could direct their magic to contact the person they wanted to talk to, like when they conjured a patronus charm, but Lauren would need a means of operating the magic that they would imbibe in the phone that she would have.

Rather abruptly, the sensory overload that was Fred and George’s thinking process ceased, and Hermione felt herself sway a little. She hadn’t been this close to it while it was happening before, although she had certainly been aware of their inventing process, both before and after she had bonded with Fred. But never involved. It was dizzying, and she was left feeling a little high.

“I feel like I just drank too much coffee!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, well you won’t need this then,” a deep voice came from behind her. She swirled around to see Charlie, carrying Elliot on his back and five takeaway cups on a tray in his hand. “Which would be a shame, because I especially asked them what you liked. It sounds disgusting, by the way,” he said, trying to look horrified as he handed Hermione a frothy, sugary latte and exchanging a sympathetic look with George who, like Charlie, enjoyed his coffee strong, dark and unadulterated. “I always thought Fred was a wimp for wanting cream and a sugar, but yours … ugh…” he pulled a face before they both laughed and hugged each other. Fred leaned over to lift Elliot out of his sling and the twins led them all to the back office, where they could sit and chat. 

“Oh,” said Charlie, noticing the owl treats in Hermione’s hand as she lifted it to hold the door open. “That’s exactly why I’m buttering you up with coffee! Is it nearly break time here?”

“It is now,” said George, giving his elder brother a grateful look and then, as Charlie and Elliot both noticed his bandaged hand, a quick summary of his accident, recovery and how Hermione and he had combined their magical skill to make moving bandage pictures. Elliot was keen to see them and climbed up on George’s lap so he could inspect them more closely. Hermione was pleased; George looked like he could use a bit of extra attention and cuddling, and Elliot was just the person to administer it.

"Here, mate," said Charlie quietly, handing his little boy the pumpkin juice that the coffee shop owner had put into a takeaway cup so that Elliot's drink would match the others.

When George was done telling his story, Hermione passed the packet of owl treats to Charlie. “I remembered you saying. We were just talking about communication, actually.” She felt a flash of friendly warning from Fred and nodded, catching his eyes to let him know that she understood that he didn’t want her to say anything just yet. The inventors liked to be able to create in their own time, without pressure or expectation, and they also enjoyed the experience of being able to unveil the fully finished product. “I haven’t forgotten that I promised to have a think about that,” she finished, turning to Elliot.

“Oh,” said George to the little boy, noticing the knitted sling that he was wearing around his own chest and assuming that it held Mr Rabbit or another toy, “do you have a baby of your own to carry around?”

“It’s for Graham,” Elliot said. “Nanna knit it so he can be safe.”

“Oh that’s gorgeous,” Fred said, as George peered into the sling and smiled to see the little purple pygmy puff snuggled and snoring against Elliot’s chest. 

“And one less thing for me to think about when apparating,” winked Charlie.

“Can we see his friends?” Elliot asked, jumping down from George’s lap.

“Yes, if you like; I’ll take you,” Hermione offered, putting her half-drunk coffee on her desk and reaching for the little boy. 

“Don’t leave Graham there though,” Fred called, as she and Elliot left the room. “Don’t want him to get sold by mistake!”

George let out a barking laugh. “Temporary resident while he gets over his cold, my arse!” he teased.

Fred grinned. “Elliot would be sad if we sold him now,” he protested, amidst a further barrage of teasing from both of his brothers.

When Hermione stepped out of the back office and into the shop, with Elliot in her arms, she had only intended to take the little boy for a brief visit to the pygmy puff aisle. But within moments of showing Elliot and Graham the shop puffs she was approached by two young witches who she didn’t know.

“Congratulations,” said the first, a little shyly, and Hermione thanked her. 

“Is it true that we’re all going to be married off though?” asked the other. “And made to have babies?” She cast a sideways glance at Elliot.

Hermione shook her head. “No,” she said. “The Ministry are keen to encourage us to start families, because our numbers are down after the war, but there’s no law coming in that I know of.” She wondered wryly if she ought to get herself a t-shirt printed up and save herself from saying the same thing over and over again. And then she wondered whether Kingsley had anticipated this and it was part of his plan, or an unintended consequence that he might appreciate being warned about. Spotting Harry and Ron outside in the Alley, she said a hurried goodbye to the witches, scooped Elliot and Graham up and headed outside with them in her arms. A few quick words had them both nodding, and they promised to let Kingsley know when he was back at the Ministry.

“You’re inciting gossip right there though,” Harry noted, nodding to Elliot.

Hermione’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought about that. Surely no-one would think that Elliot could possibly be her and Fred’s child, but the red hair and the way his little arms were lovingly wound around her could easily give the wrong impression. “You’re right,” she said, giving them both a quick peck on the cheek and letting each of them give Elliot a pat. “Thank you for the lovely flowers, Harry, and I’ll see you both soon.”

“Yeah, very soon,” Ron said with a grin, going back to his perusal of the Alley. Hermione walked quickly back through the shop and to the room where the three Weasley men were finishing their coffee. Hermione gave Elliot to Fred, who settled him on his lap. 

“Sweetheart?” said Hermione, as she picked up her coffee cup again.

“Yes, my honeybun?” Fred replied slowly, already aware from the bond that Hermione was about to ask something of him.

“I wondered whether you and Elliot might like to return Graham upstairs while I ask Charlie how his evening went…”

Fred laughed. “We’d love to,” he said, lifting Elliot onto the floor. “I’ll take you on a tour of the shop. Maybe even get you something to take home to play with,” he promised, as Elliot held out his hand.

“Want me to vanish your ear?” George offered, raising his wand with a flourish.

“Nah,” Fred replied. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

Hermione made a face. “A couple of witches asked me about a possible law, but that was all.”

“How was it, then?” Hermione asked Charlie with a big smile as soon as Fred and Elliot were out of earshot.

Charlie leaned back in his seat. “It was amazing, love…”

George laughed.

“Fuck off, you unromantic git,” Charlie said, but he was grinning. “It was,” he shrugged. “You try being away from Angie for three years and not knowing if you’ll ever see her again and then see how soppy and emotional you feel when you finally get her back in your arms and your bed…”

George’s smile slid into a look of sadness and sympathy. He hadn’t really thought of it like that. And it did hit him that, actually, his situation could be far worse than it actually was. “Yeah,” he said, sincerely. “I’m glad you’ve found each other again.”

“Me too,” Charlie said. “Still getting used to that myself.” He sipped his coffee, preparing to give Hermione and George a rundown of what had happened and their plans for the next few days.

“So Elliot got on OK with Mum and Dad?” Hermione asked. 

“He had a wonderful time,” Charlie replied. “Bodes really well for future nights of passion,” he waggled his eyebrows. “He went on a creature walk with Dad, met the chickens, had scrambled eggs and chocolate biscuits for tea … his choice,” he rolled his eyes, “supervised the knitting of Graham’s sling and then Dad read him a ton of stories. Mum said he stayed in my old bed until they went up but then wanted to get in with them, and then this morning Lauren and I joined them for breakfast.”

“Oh, is Lauren still there now?” Hermione had begun to suspect that Charlie was wary about trying to apparate both of them together.

“No,” he shook his head. “She wanted to bring the car back, so she had breakfast at The Burrow and then drove back to Bristol. We popped home a few minutes ago just to check she got back safely, and now Elliot and I are staying out for the day so she can work. I’ve got a shopping list,” he said, patting his pocket, “and I reckon I can spend a good few hours showing him the Alley, but we’re going back to Mum’s for lunch. She can’t get enough of her grandson!”

“Alright kids, let’s make it PG again!” Fred called before he re-entered the office a few minutes later. Hermione laughed. She had taught him that phrase just recently, when she had taken him and George to the cinema. It was slightly odd, but also nice, to hear him using muggle terms. She wondered how having Lauren in their lives might lead to further integration, and smiled at the thought of her two worlds mixing more than before.

“All safe,” George replied, and made an excited face as he saw what Elliot was carrying. “You’ve got your own wand!” he said.

“Thank you Forgie,” Elliot said, waving it in demonstration.

“I said it was from both of us,” Fred told his twin. Then he turned to Charlie. “I hope Lauren will be OK with it? It’s harmless … just makes sparkles when you say the right word … it might save her worrying that he would pick up anyone else’s again if he has one of his own?”

“It’s great, thanks,” said Charlie. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem for her. But if it is,” he grinned, “I’ll make it clear it was your idea rather than mine.”

“Fair enough,” Fred laughed. “I reckon I’ve got some credits in hand, what with the chocolate and our no-magic chip night, so I think I’m safe.”

“Right then mate,” Charlie said to Elliot. “Do you think we should continue on our travels and let Fred and George and Miney do some work?”

Elliot nodded.

“Would either of you like to go to the loo before you go?” Hermione asked, trying not to single Elliot out. 

“I think I might,” said Charlie, looking at his son, who nodded as well. 

“Good thinking, Miney,” Charlie said. 

“Oh!” exclaimed George. “I found something this morning, and I nearly forgot.” He scooted backwards on his office chair and reached into a drawer, pulling out a packet containing three coloured ping pong balls. “We used some for a product,” he explained, “but you can have these. There’s one for here, one for home and one for Nanna and Grandad’s.”

Elliot’s smile was a delight to see. Charlie just about had time to say goodbye and hold up the owl treats, toy wand and ping pong balls in a quick thank you salute before Elliot pulled him back towards the main shop. 

Hermione, Fred and George stayed out back, wanting to finish talking before they engaged with the rest of the world, and the twins quickly took the opportunity to tell Hermione about the remainder of the working areas. “I think you’ve seen everywhere now,” George said, “though maybe not in the order we had planned.”

“The workroom and stockrooms you know,” Fred said, giving Hermione a wink to remind her that they had done a bit more than work in the stockroom. George hadn’t realised that and filed the new piece of information away. He was pretty sure that Fleur had the WWW stockroom on her bingo card, and he wondered if the information would be enough to win him a visit to her kitchen for crepes.

“And then there’s just the mail order area,” Fred was continuing, “but you’ll probably have very little to do with that and it’s all automated anyway. Lee oversees it and even we barely engage with it nowadays.”

“And,” said George, “you’ve seen the panic room so you know that’s defence products and our cupboard.”

“So I’m up to speed!” declared Hermione. “And I have my lists and I’m almost set!”

“Only almost? What else do you need, love?” Fred asked.

Hermione looked a bit sheepish. “I don’t know what you’ll think of it.”

Fred looked at George. “Try us,” they said, at the same time.

“Well I know you’re both more spontaneous than me, but I need a bit of order in my work. I’d really like us to have a meeting once a week, ideally at the same time, so I can update you on where I’m at and get your go ahead on things. And maybe also let you know what you need to be focusing on over the next week or so.”

“Oh, bless you,” Fred had an urge to scoop Hermione into his lap and wondered, not for the first time, how he was going to manage to be professional around her all day. He decided to throw decorum to the wind and moved over to her desk, sitting himself upon it right in front of her so that he could stroke her hair. “Of course we’re up for that. That kind of rhythm is exactly what we need to balance us out. We can’t wait for you to make us a bit more structure, if it will help grow the shop.” 

He looked at George, who nodded in agreement. “I'll talk to Verity and Lee, but we can easily clear some time for you. Maybe let us know when you think would be good, once you've seen how things work around here? And," he added with a wink, "just as long as we can be spontaneous for the other six and a half days of the week.”

“That sounds good to me,” said a smiling Hermione, resting her cheek in Fred’s hand.

“Right,” said George, who had already sensed the sexual tension in Fred and Hermione’s bond. “In the hope that, one day, I might find a witch who wants to bond with me and make me as stupidly happy as you two lovebirds are, I’m going to lock the door behind me and make myself useful in the store for twenty minutes. Don’t sully my desk!” he warned with a pointed finger and then, with another, lewder wink, he walked out and locked the door behind him.

Fred didn’t need a second invitation. He jumped up from Hermione’s desk. “Switch with me,” he said simply, and she did, allowing him to lift her onto her own desk. Quickly, he pulled off her knickers and pulled her hips towards him, laying her back on her own desk so that he could lick her. She squeaked, and Fred wandlessly summoned a cushion from one of the chairs, lifting her shoulders and placing it under her. “Better?” he growled, and she nodded.

He returned to his work, spreading her wide apart with his fingers so he could use his whole mouth on her and quickly had her panting his name. The second her orgasm was complete, he undid his own robes and trousers and thrust inside her.

Hermione loved watching Fred’s face as he fucked her. He scrunched it just so, and she never grew tired of the expression that was on his face when they did this. As he neared his climax, she leaned forward, tilting her pelvis just at the right angle, and then tipped her head back as he lost his rhythm and came inside her, grunting her name.

Fred lifted her from the cushion and cradled her in his arms when they were done, whispering words of love into her ear before helping her off the desk and back on to her feet. 

“Was that on your list?” he asked with a cheeky smile before he kissed her again, buttoned his trousers, put his hands into his pockets and sauntered back out into the shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note to those asking about whether I'm going to explain how Elliot can sense apparition: yes, I will explain that, but not for a good few weeks. I did, however, place a small clue to this in Romanian Summer, which is now complete. I'm not going to confirm or deny any guesses, because it will spoil the surprise itself, and PLEASE don't put spoilers on there about Elliot because some people are reading that before they read this but if anyone is spot on (and doesn't naff me off by posting a spoiler lol) then I may reward them with a Fremione one-shot :-)
> 
> As always, happy reviews are always welcome and are used as writing fuel :-)


	44. The homework planner of the century

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I want to say a big thank you to those of you who are reviewing, as that really helps me to keep going, especially when I need to write chapters like this one, which contain important things but aren't maybe quite as exciting as some :-) And yay for all the entries in the 'how can Elliot sense apparition' challenge, but nobody has got near the answer yet, although some of your ideas are great and I would never have thought of them!
> 
> Oh and I nearly forgot to mention - I have posted a new one-shot Fred/Hermione about language, for a friend, "The Weasley's Kitchen Table Guide to British Slang and Swearing" if anyone's interested :-)

Hermione Granger had always been organised and efficient but, that Monday afternoon, on her first day as Head of Planning at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, she absolutely outdid herself.

“Bloody hell, ‘Mione,” George exclaimed, as he and Fred came back into the office at about three o’clock. She had truly never seen them as quiet as they were as they stood and admired her work.

“It’s only rough,” she told them modestly. “Needs to be refined. But I wanted to show you the way I was thinking because, if you don’t like the idea, or it doesn’t fit with the way you work, I’d rather know now than keep going down this road.”

“It’s bloody brilliant,” said Fred, walking towards the whiteboard, which was no longer white. It had been turned into a colour co-ordinated everlasting year planner complete with notes and moving festive pictures showing the different holiday seasons and sales opportunities. Hermione was particularly pleased with that touch; hoping it would capture Fred and George’s attention and get them to focus on her plan. 

It did. They stood in awe to watch her bonfire night fireworks, the grinning, glowing, dancing Samhain pumpkins, her exploding Christmas crackers and the tiny redheaded twin quidditch players escorting the miniature Hogwarts Express which chugged across the squares denoting the last couple of weeks of August before disappearing into a puff of its own smoke when it reached the first of September, reappearing again at the beginning of the summer holidays. 

“Planning, development, creation, launch and then sale, for each holiday or sales opportunity,” she said, showing them how each season had been allocated a different colour which flowed from light to dark as the key date neared, “and we can adjust the length of time you’ll need for those, but you can see the general principle.”

They nodded in unison.

“You’ve given us a longer lead-in for Christmas,” George observed, unable to stop his long fingers from reaching out towards the board.

“Yes, I think we’ll need it,” she replied. “More opportunity than any other time. Presents as well as decorations; would you agree?”

“Absolutely,” Fred said, using his wand as a pointer. “And Valentine’s, Easter and summer are shorter spans of time, and then back to school, Guy Fawkes and Samhain both have longer lead-ins but not as long as Christmas.”

“Oh, look!” George exclaimed, pointing to April the first, which he had just spotted was marked by more tiny versions of the two of them throwing fireworks from their broomsticks.

“I did that from memory,” Hermione smiled, and the three of them were silent for just an few seconds as they remembered that day and just how much had happened since. 

“I honestly think,” Hermione continued, “that it’s worth beginning to think about Christmas towards the end of the summer. If you want to launch new things each year, anyway. I read in a muggle paper once than some shops make between a quarter and a third of their sales in the Christmas season, so,” she shrugged, “it’s worth getting ahead. Though the start of school terms is important for us to, which is why I’ve marked them.” And she had. The Easter and Summer terms didn’t have trains, but they had more little uniformed figures roaming around and, when the twins looked closely, they saw tiny versions of Hermione, Ron and Harry huddled together at the beginning of the Easter term and of Ginny and Angelina heralding the summer return date in their quidditch kits, taking turns to lob balls through hoops. 

“Can I kiss her?” George asked Fred.

“No, you bloody can’t,” his brother replied, leaning in to do the job himself for both of them. “You’re amazing, love,” he said to Hermione, who blushed a little. She hadn’t grown up with a lot of praise from her peers, and she still wasn’t quite used to the level of enthusiasm that Fred and George showed for her ideas and actions.

“It’s really just a revision and homework timetable but with holidays and term dates in instead,” she said modestly. “I used to make them for Ron and Harry all the time, but they never appreciated them.” Her voice became quieter. “Maybe if I had added a moving train, or little quidditch people…” she trailed off.

“Well we bloody appreciate it,” said George, who was still studying the chart. “This means we won’t forget things that are coming up. Or end up having a crazy rush and no sleep because we forgot to get ahead. And,” he grinned, reaching towards the tiny figure of Angelina with his finger, “this reminds me that the current quidditch season is nearly up, and I’ll get my Angie for the whole of August before it starts back up again.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant…” Hermione leaned into him affectionately. “I don’t really keep up with how the quidditch season works, but I'm happy to learn that.”

George smiled down at her but he didn’t get a chance to say anything else at that point because Fred was still waxing lyrical about the chart.

“Yeah,” he said, still studying it intently. “Some of these holidays,” Fred waved his hand up and down the period towards the end of the year, “they just come one after the other, and then it’s Christmas before you know it and we’re not as ready as we might be.”

“Well, it will also show you,” Hermione interjected, “when the quiet times are. Might be worth thinking about that in relation to getting ahead for the holidays, and also those would be good times, if in the future you do want to think about opening other shops…”

“You know what we said this morning about letting us know when you’ve had enough of working here?” Fred said.

“Yes…” Hermione’s reply was hesitant.

George leaned in, close to her ear. “Never bloody leave, love. You’re ours now!”

Hermione laughed. “When you think about it,” she said, “this is an ideal job for someone who only wants to work part time and who likes bossing other people about, so I’m pretty happy with it.” 

She beamed at them. The thought that kept running through her head was that this was also an ideal job for someone who was looking after small people. When she and Fred were ready to start a family – well, when she was ready to start a family, for she knew that Fred would sit her back on her desk and get her pregnant right now, given half a chance – then she could still manage the co-ordination of this kind of thing, especially if they were happy to get her an assistant to do the day-to-day stuff. Hermione tried hard to keep that thought to herself and not share it across the bond, though. She was just delighted that they could see the value in what she could offer.

“I think,” she said, “that it would be good if we went through this quite slowly at our first meeting together. Next week,” she added hastily. “I need a bit more time this week to get other things sorted.” 

“OK,” they agreed.

“Then we can talk about the sorts of things you’d like to do for each festival or holiday and work out whether I’ve got the lead-in times right,” she continued. “I mean, if you just do a new glitterbubble basket for Valentines, say, then it won’t need as long as if you wanted to bring out a whole range of something. And maybe it will vary each year, I don’t know…”

Fred scooped her under his arm. “Love, this is brilliant, and you need a break from thinking. How can we treat you? Ice cream in the Alley? Hot date at a cool bar?” He paused, sensing her thoughts through the bond. “A cup of tea with my mum?” he asked, a bit incredulously.

Hermione chuckled. “I’d love to finish up here for the day now that I’ve showed you that and get a more few things crossed off my list. And yes, a few of them involve me talking to your mum. I didn’t get so much of a chance yesterday … I wasn’t really that organised in my thoughts, and yesterday needed to be about Lauren and Elliot and Charlie. Are you OK if I go to The Burrow and maybe pop a couple of other places?”

“Gods, of course,” Fred said, and George nodded vigorously in agreement. “Remember what we said about happy staff, ‘Mione?”

“Yes, I do,” she replied. “OK. Do we have a plan for dinner?” she asked Fred.

“Oh, Ange replied,” George announced, “and I’m going to hers for dinner and the night.” He smiled suggestively. “I’m hoping she’ll play beaters and nurses with me…”

“Pervert,” Fred grinned, turning to Hermione. “You and me then, love. Will you be back in time for a date night with me and, if so, shall I cook for us and we’ll have a romantic night in, or would you like me to take you somewhere?”

“Romantic night in, please,” Hermione replied, with no hesitation. “I feel like we’ve been out a lot, and it would be lovely to have a night with just you and me.” Then she realised what she had said. “No offence, Georgie.”

“None taken, my lady,” he assured her with a bow. She was pleased to see that he looked a bit happier since Oswald had returned with Angelina’s note.

“Alright then,” said Fred. “You go do your stuff. I’ll cook. Meet me on the roof at seven?”

“That sounds lovely,” Hermione said, giving him a kiss. 

Four hours later, when she made her way up the stairs to their roof garden, Hermione was delighted to see that Fred had made a stir fry and set them a low table with a large beanbag that they could snuggle together on.

“This is how we sit at Phil’s,” she exclaimed happily, as she picked up the fork that he had placed beside her plate.

“Yeah,” he said. “I realised how much I love sitting right beside you, so I thought I’d try it out here.”

Hermione only mumbled in reply. She was enjoying her stir fry too much to speak. It was only when she had eaten about half that she stopped to tell Fred how good it was and to ask about how his day had gone after she had left.

“It was great,” he said, between bites. “I got on with making some products, and Georgie did the simple stuff with his good hand.” He went on to tell her about the products that they had worked on, and Hermione asked a few questions, wanting to make sure she knew about the range of things that they created and sold. “But,” he finished, scooping the last of his food onto a fork, “I sent him to Ange’s as soon as she was home. Then nipped to the shops to get this,” he nodded towards the table, “and not much else really. Sounds like you had the more adventurous time?” 

Fred popped his last bite into his mouth just as Hermione finished her own food and put down her fork. “Don’t laugh,” she said, “but I crossed a few things off my list, and I feel loads better for it.”

“’Mione,” he said, seriously.

“Yes, Fred?” Hermione turned to him.

“I want to know more about your day in a bit, love, but why do you always think Georgie and I will laugh when you talk about your lists and stuff? What you created today was bloody amazing, and that was just in a morning. You’re going to be such an asset to us … why would you think we’d take the piss? Have we been that horrible to you about that stuff over the years?” He looked concerned.

Hermione looked towards her lavender bushes, thinking. “No,” she said after a moment, returning her gaze to Fred. “But Ron always made fun of my lists and of how organised I was. He didn’t always know when to stop … when he was upsetting me … and I might have been a bit pushy about trying to make him be organised … so I think maybe I’m a bit defensive, like if I think I might get made fun of or want to make sure I’m not being pushy…” She trailed off.

Fred took her chin in his hands and gently turned her to face him. Then he leaned in close. “I’m not Ron, love.”

Hermione looked into his eyes. “I know, sweetheart.” Her face broke into a smile. “But you have been known to make fun of me a bit in the past…”

Fred smiled in reply, wrinkling his nose. “I’m going to try really hard to watch that from now on. I’ve already been trying not to…”

“And you’re doing a really good job,” she said. “I have noticed. It’s my stuff, you know … I need to work on not reacting.”

“Did Ron give you that hard a time, love?” he asked.

She looked deep into his eyes. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “He’s more mature now, I know, but let’s just say I don’t think that he and I would have been a good match, even though some people once thought we would end up together.”

“Ouch,” he whispered. “Don’t even say it … I can’t bear the thought of you not being with me…”

At that, Hermione wrapped her arms around Fred’s neck and slid her bottom down the beanbag, pulling him close to her for a cuddle. 

“Oooooh, ‘Mione,” he teased. “Are you after my body?”

“Honestly? No,” she said, with a smile and a shake of her curls. “I’ve had your body twice today, and I need a bit of recovery time, sweetheart. I’m after a long bath with you and a glass of wine, and then maybe a massage if I can persuade you. And then an early night with my book...” She looked at him shyly but with a seductive smile.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” he teased, going in for a long kiss. He slid his tongue into her mouth with a soft groan, caressing her hips with his hands as he moved his mouth over her lips and then to her neck, making her giggle. After a few minutes, he surfaced, stroking the side of her breast, and settled them both into a comfy position on the beanbag. Lazily, he lifted his wand and lit the strings of fairy lights, even though it was still quite light. Another charm sent a warm breeze across the garden and filled the air with the scent of Hermione’s herbs. “If I could, I’d do one of Charlie’s weather spells and make it all cosy and dark for you,” he said, “but I haven’t had time to ask him to teach me yet.”

“That’s OK,” said Hermione. “You’re quite magical enough for me without weather spells.”

Fred stroked the scars on her arm. “So, love, your day?”

“Well,” she began. “I went to see your mum. I really wanted to take her some nice chocolate to say thank you for everything, and I also thought of a great gift that she would love.” Fred continued his stroking. “So I went to a muggle supermarket and I bought her some muggle baking ingredients to use with Elliot. You know,” although she immediately realised that he probably didn’t know, “you can get these little silver balls and multi-coloured sprinkle things and, well it’s fair to say I went a bit nuts in the baking aisle.”

“Nuts in the baking aisle … that sounds like the title of a Weird Sisters song,” he teased. “I bet you made her day. Was she thrilled?”

“Yes. She loved it. But not as much as your dad liked the bag it came in and the muggle cake candles that I got him,” she laughed. “I told him they were really just for birthday cakes but I imagine he’ll put them on every cake your mum and Elliot make. I imagine he’ll have run out by the end of the month,” she finished, with a chuckle.

“I love that you have such a great relationship with them both,” Fred said tenderly, and Hermione nodded, though he also felt her distress and picked up the picture of her own parents even as the words came out of his mouth. He couldn’t take them back though. “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to remind you…”

“I know,” Hermione whispered back. “I really miss them, and I’m so happy with you, and everything feels nearly perfect, and then I remember … and it makes me feel so sad to not know if I’ll ever see them again.”

Fred knew there was nothing he could say to make her feel better about that, and neither did he really want to. He hadn’t spent that much time with Lauren but what he had learned from their conversation on this very rooftop just a few days prior was that there was something to be gained from allowing oneself to feel through the pain and not to try to suppress it. He kept thinking of that in relation to George and had felt relieved when his twin sent a wave of friendly happiness back to him while they were eating, letting Fred know that he was OK before he closed their connection for the night.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Over in Angelina’s flat, George was indeed feeling happier than he had for a while. He had picked up takeaway, wine and flowers on his way and they had quickly settled themselves onto the one sofa. George poured them a drink each and then levitated noodles and meat into two bowls. He handed one to Angie, along with a set of chopsticks.

“How was your day, love?” he asked.

“Better for seeing you,” she replied, gathering a pile of noodles onto the wooden sticks. “Mmmmm,” she said, “I’m starving. This is great, thank you.”

George mumbled in response, his mouth too full of his own noodles to reply properly. When he could, though, he asked what the team had been working on.

“Set plays for when next season starts,” Angie grumbled, pulling a face. “I’m sick and tired of them, to be honest. We seem to spend a hundred hours working on something and then either we use it once and that’s it, because next time the opposition will expect it, or we get halfway into using it and something unexpected happens which means we have to change the plan and use our wits anyway. I don’t know why we can’t just play and rely on instinct and natural skill rather than doing all this set up, forced stuff.”

George nodded. He and Fred had always far preferred to play quidditch ‘by the seat of their pants’, responding in the moment rather than planning a strategy ahead of time, and he knew Angelina had never been keen on the way that professional players had to spend so much time working on that kind of thing.

“I suppose that’s the price that has to be paid for being a pro star, love,” he reassured her. 

Angie raised her eyebrows. “I suppose,” she said, fishing around her bowl for a nice piece of meat. She clearly wasn’t convinced, and George found that his heart skipped a beat at the thought. Immediately, though, he felt guilty. Angie had clearly just had a bad day and it would be mean and unfair of him to build on that and encourage her away from a job that she usually loved.

“I’m so proud of you,” he told her, leaning in for a kiss. “My girlfriend, professional quidditch star…”

Angelina smiled. She loved that both George and her dad were so proud of what she did, and of how well she was doing. 

“In fact,” George continued, “I was thinking that we might reward each other tonight … you know, give each other something we love…” he trailed off, biting his lip as he looked at her from under long red eyelashes.

“Oh yes?” she replied. “What’s that then?”

“Well,” his voice became quieter, so she had to lean closer to hear. “There’s something you like me to wear, and I might have brought it as a negotiation tool…” He trailed off, tipping his head to indicate a holdall that Angelina hadn’t previously noticed.

“Oh really?” Angelina’s voice changed too as she eyed the bag. She knew exactly what was in it: George’s Gryffindor quidditch robes. They were what he had been wearing the first time he and Angelina kissed and, although their first night together had been a bit more romantic than a quick fumble in the changing rooms, they had made love in their quidditch gear several times after that. Perhaps as a result, seeing George in his beater’s gear never failed to turn Angelina on. In fact, she thought wryly, feeling herself responding to the idea, she didn’t even need to see him in them; just the knowledge that he would be putting them on was doing it for her already. But this was George Weasley, and he had already mentioned the word ‘negotiation’…

“And what do you want in return, then?” she asked him, flickering her eyes from under her own dark lashes and noting with pleasure the way that his body was already responding to their conversation.

“Well,” he said slowly, lifting his injured arm and showing her the bandage, “this needs to be kept on all night, so I might need some looking after,” he paused and looked at her before continuing. “And I might have bought you that muggle nurse outfit that we saw the other week … thought maybe we could play beaters and nurses…”

Angelina was off the sofa almost before he had finished the sentence. “Give me my outfit then,” she commanded, handing him the bag, “and I’ll change in the bathroom. I’ll be five minutes,” she said, her voice becoming slightly bossier, “and you had better be in full gear on my bed by the time I get there to conduct my examination…”

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

“I’m glad Georgie’s having a nice time,” Hermione said, as they had felt him close the bond, and Fred nodded in response.

“Thanks for making space for him, love,” Fred said.

“Fred,” she turned to face him. “This is like you not making fun of me. He’s a part of you, I know that. It’s a given, and I’ll always make space for him.”

Fred sighed. “He wants to bond with Ange, you know. So badly. He doesn’t want me to tell you, not really, but he knows really that I can’t have secrets from you any more than you’d want me to keep them from him.”

“Poor Georgie,” Hermione sighed. “I thought it might be that when he mentioned finding a witch to bond with him before. But maybe when she’s ready to finish with quidditch and start a family?”

“Yeah,” Fred agreed. “He knows that. Just doesn’t want to wait.” He huffed a bit. “Impatient git,” he winked. “I mean, obviously I waited years before telling you I loved you and finally getting you down the aisle…”

Hermione laughed so hard at that comment that she snorted, and then sat up, a bit surprised at the noise. Then they both laughed and sank back into a hug.

“He’s up to something, by the way,” Fred added.

“Really?”

He nodded. “He sent an owl to Fleur when you were out.” He frowned. Looking puzzled. “Why would he send an owl to Fleur? Without telling me? Is he pranking me somehow? Usually we don’t prank each other…”

Hermione pondered that question for a moment. “I don’t know,” she said. “Are you worried about it? Could it be something to do with him and Ange?”

Fred quickly shook his head. “It’s nothing sinister,” he reassured her. “I’d have felt it if it was. Just a bit odd. I didn’t know they were that close.” He trailed off, thinking, and then shrugged. “Well, I guess I’ll figure it out sometime.”

Hermione stroked his arm, trying to calm him. “I love you, Fred,” she said, speaking softly into his ear. “And thank you for not pranking me on my first day…”

“I love you too, and you’re welcome. Shall we go down and sort your bath and wine and massage?”

“That sounds wonderful… I’m so glad we have this time together.”

“Me too, love,” Fred said. “I don’t know what we’re doing tomorrow, but it’s date night Wednesday and then we need to get organised for pizza night Friday…”

“Oh wow, yes,” Hermione said. “I think I might need to do more errands tomorrow afternoon, so it might be nice to do this again tomorrow evening, but perhaps with George, if he’s around?”

Fred looked at her. “Alright,” he said. “Personally, I don’t know why you’d want to snog George on a beanbag when I’m available, but if variety is what you need, love…”

Hermione laughed as she rolled over onto her knees and then stood. “Come on, you … we have bath flavours that I still haven’t tried, and I want to wash my hair, so I’m going to be in there for a while…”

“Oh,” said Fred. “That’ll give me even more time to gaze at your soap-covered breasts while I drink wine beside you … married life is SUCH a chore!”


	45. Hermione's second day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and happy Tuesday! Thank you, as always, for the lovely reviews and for the boost they give my writing; I'd have given up long ago if not for your encouraging comments! 
> 
> I am delighted to announce that Flower has won a one-shot for being the closest to correctly guessing why Elliot can sense apparition and I will be working on her choice of one-shot (which will actually be a spin-off set in this universe) over the next few weeks.
> 
> And I've had this particular chapter in the wings for a while, so I really hope you all enjoy it :-)

“I’m going to pop to Gringott’s first thing in the morning, but I’ll come to the shop as soon as I’m done,” Hermione had told Fred as they were snuggled together in bed after their shared bath. He was slightly surprised.

“Didn’t you get enough of Billiam in the garden yesterday then, love? Or are you and Ginny secretly running off to Vegas with the contents of our vault? Ooooh, does this have something to do with George’s owl to Fleur?” He sat up quickly, his eyes wide and excited. “Am I having a surprise party, just for me?”

“Silly,” she admonished him. “Why would Georgie throw a party for you on your own? If it’s a surprise party then it must be for me too, because I don’t know anything about it.” She stroked Fred’s face with the back of her fingers, causing his eyes to lose focus slightly as he relaxed into Hermione’s touch. “No, Bill’s offered to lend me a book on more advanced bond control magic. So I don’t send every sexy thought I have about you to Georgie as well,” she stopped her stroking and instead swiped his chest gently with her hand when he laughed, “and also because,” the stroking resumed, “like I said in the garden at Mum’s, sometimes it might be nice to be able to be in my own head for a while…”

“Alright…” Fred didn’t really understand why one would want to do that but, having been born with a twin bond, he imagined that he wasn’t exactly the best person to judge that sort of thing. 

“Did you feel anything weird when he was teaching me how to control it?” 

“I can’t say I did, love. Just felt you tuning out now and again. I was a bit focused on Georgie, sorry love.” He punctuated his apology by stroking her hair, and she nuzzled into his neck, which was one of her favourite places to rest her cheek.

“It’s OK, Freddie, I understand. I’m glad you two have had some time together,” she told him. “And he’s got Angelina all night and most nights this week, I think, so hopefully that’ll help as well…”

“Yeah…” Fred trailed off, hugging Hermione to him as he thought again about how George had been affected by Fred and Hermione’s bonding. “Are you all set for another day in the shop tomorrow then, love?” he asked her.

“I am,” she told him. Then, shyly, she asked, “is it OK if I buy a couple of bookshelves for my office?”

Fred sensed through the bond that she felt nervous and, not sure whether that was because she thought he might say no or else make fun of her again for her bookworm tendencies, he reassured her quickly. He had become a bit worried after her earlier comment that she was feeling the lack of her parents more strongly after her Weasley family Sunday. They had still heard nothing from Kingsley about how the search for the Grangers was going. “Of course you can, love. We want you to feel at home. You bring whatever you like; we’ll make room. And take as much time as you need with Bill; I’ll see you whenever you’re ready.” 

Hermione ensured that he was rewarded for his kindness with plenty of kisses before they fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

When Fred woke the next morning, he was slightly surprised to find that Hermione had made an early start. Passing him in the kitchen, she gave him a quick goodbye kiss before stepping into the floo and calling out the floo address of Bill’s office in Gringott’s.

Gods, she was keen. Fred realised that he had better put coffee on for George. If Hermione was that eager, his brother was going to need it, and they couldn’t rely on Charlie coming by with takeaway caffeine every day.

Hermione didn’t reappear for quite a while though, and George and Fred spent the first hour of the morning getting things straight with Lee and Verity and catching up on what had happened the day before. There was nothing in The Prophet to spark visitors or intrigue that morning, and they only had two customers in the first half hour of being open, one of whom didn’t even buy anything. The four of them used the time to check stock and plan what Fred and George most needed to work on that week. 

The next half hour was slightly more exciting, punctuated as it was with the excitement of a small explosion. Spurred on by Hermione’s year planner, George had gone out to the stock area to rearrange their boxes of products onto shelves according to whether they were ‘year-round’ products or aligned with a particular holiday or season. He then decided to clear one whole wall of shelves so that they could have an area dedicated solely to the products that they were making for the next festival or holiday.

He was so focused on thinking about how proud Hermione would be of him for having applied her thinking to the stock holding area, however, that George failed to consider the value of getting on a ladder and checking if there was anything at the back of the very top shelves before he used a cleaning spell on them. The cleaning spell had an unfortunate effect on the loose dungbombs that had fallen out of a box when the twins had tried to make the shop look as if it had been ransacked during the war. The consequence was a large bang which sounded worse than it looked but which still covered George in several months’ worth of dirt and had Fred sending him packing into the staff shower, following him in with a clean set of robes and a lecture about being more careful.

“That’s two accidents in two days, Georgie,” he admonished. “Not much of a safety record, is it, even for us!” He pulled a face, not really cross with his younger brother, but still wondering where Hermione had got to, and whether everything was OK.

A few minutes later, though, Fred was relieved to spot Hermione’s patronus. It found him in the back of the shop, having cleared up from the explosion and making the potions that were needed for their skiving snackboxes. He had made himself a cup of tea and put the radio on while he was working and, Fred realised with a smile as he saw her message skipping towards him, he was really liking the feeling of what Hermione herself kept saying she was so enjoying after the war: a normal, uneventful day.

“I’ve ordered a couple of bookshelves from The Magical Supply Co, sweetheart,” the little silvery otter told him in Hermione’s voice. “They might arrive before I do, but I’ll be there very soon.”

Not ten minutes later, the doorbell jangled and two middle-aged wizards walked into the shop. Between them, they were carrying a trunk, which they put down onto the floor, a few feet inside the door.

“Shop?” shouted one of them. 

George had just emerged from the staff room and walked forward, using his wand to put a final drying charm through his hair. “Hello?” he asked pleasantly.

“Delivery for Granger-Weasley,” the man said. “Sign here with your wand, please.” 

“Alright,” George said, nodding. “One moment please.” He glanced at the clipboard that the man held out and then turned to the back of the shop.

“Freddie? You expecting a delivery?”

“Yup,” Fred called from the workroom, where he had just put his previous potion to one side to cool and begun making a batch of some of their Wonder Witch base potion. “Hermione ordered some shelves for her office.”

“Right,” said George, turning back to the wizard with a smile. Raising his wand, he sent his magical signature onto the paperwork and looked back at the wizard, who was looking at his colleague. George hadn’t met either one of these men before, although he wasn’t sure he would have remembered them anyway. They were both of medium height and dressed for their work. One of them was in a light brown work coat, a little bit like the ones that muggle school caretakers sometimes wore. The other was wearing jeans and a black baseball cap. Both looked as if they were keen to get done and out of there, so George decided not to offer them a cup of tea.

“Where would you like them then?” Brown Coat asked.

“Oh, just pop them here, please,” George said cheerily, indicating a space on the floor in front of him. “It’s not busy this morning, and we can levitate them into the back office ourselves when my brother’s wife gets back and tells us where she wants them.”

Baseball Cap nodded to Brown Coat and they opened the trunk together. George peered over, always fascinated to see how other companies managed deliveries of magical goods. This one appeared to have shrunk all of the deliveries for that day and put them in the one trunk. Presumably, he thought, these two went around with just that trunk and unloaded them throughout the morning. That wouldn’t work for the kinds of deliveries the twins did, but it was interesting to see another company’s process in action nonetheless.

Carefully, Baseball Cap lifted his wand and levitated a tiny set of bookshelves out of the trunk. Once he had settled them on the floor, Brown Coat used his wand to enlarge them. So far so good. A second set of shelves followed, and then a third. As Baseball Cap levitated the fourth set of shelves out of the trunk and, because they were slightly running out of room, into the aisle containing the skiving snackboxes, George called to Fred again.

“How many bookshelves did our resident bookworm order, Gred?”

“Just a couple, she said,” Fred called back. He was still concentrating on his potion while dancing along with the radio.

“How many have you got in there, mate?” George asked Baseball Cap.

The man leaned over, “Oh, at least a dozen more,” he said cheerfully, levitating another one out. He was on a roll now, and had worked out how to fit them in between the shelving. The shelves were rather tall, and none of the shops’ customers would be able to see the shops’ own shelves or products once they were out of the trunk, but that wasn’t his problem.

“Freddie,” George called. “Need a moment of your time down the front. Slightly urgent.” His voice was calm but he sent Fred a clear message across their twin bond, letting his brother know that something wasn’t right. Fred quickly turned the radio off and cast more stasis charms over his work.

“Woah,” Fred said, as he reached his brother and saw what the delivery men were doing. “Can you stop for a mo?”

“Not really,” said Baseball Cap. “We’re on a schedule, you know. Have to take a load of stone up to Hogsmeade next. That’ll take some levitating!” 

“Well,” said George, “I think there’s been a mistake. Hermione said she ordered two,” he looked at Fred, who nodded in confirmation, “and she doesn’t need all of these.”

Brown Coat shrugged. “Maybe she likes books,” he said, still enlarging shelves as his colleague brought each one out of the trunk. 

“Well actually,” said George, “she does. A lot. But I’m certain she hasn’t ordered this many shelves. Can you reshrink them and put them back in your box, please? Our customers won’t be able to get in.”

“Can’t do that, sorry,” said Baseball Cap. “Rules,” he added with a shrug.

Fred closed his eyes, trying to communicate with his wife. He didn’t have a good connection with Hermione, and he was fairly sure that that was because she was practising bond control with Bill. What a time for this to happen.

“You OK?” George asked him, and Fred nodded. 

“Can’t reach ‘Mione. She’s with Bill, and he asked me not to try to break through while she was learning to control it. Says I could easily reach her if I needed to, but he wants to give her the best chance of learning to control it without me busting in...” He shrugged, and touched George’s arm. Something felt off about this, but neither of the twins had a sense of danger. “We’ll shrink them ourselves and sort it later,” Fred suggested. But when he pointed his wand towards the nearest bookshelf and uttered the spell, however, nothing happened. “That’s weird,” he said, looking at his wand and then trying and failing again. 

Fred checked his wand again, wondering if George or Lee had switched it with a trick one, but a quick summoning spell proved that theory wrong. He looked over at the counter towards Lee, wondering if this was his friend’s idea of a joke, but the telltale look that Lee couldn’t hide when he successfully pranked Fred and George wasn’t there.

George, however, was still intent on solving the problem at source. “Look,” he said to the delivery men. “How many do you have? Can you please just stop and tell us that? If you bring out too many more, you won’t get them in anywhere.”

He was right. Brown Coat and Baseball Cap had continued their work even as Fred and George had been negotiating with them, and if anything their unloading had got faster. Thirteen sets of bookshelves were now filling the aisles of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and Verity had joined Lee near the till, the two of them whispering together about what having a shop full of shelving units was going to mean.

Brown Coat frowned. “Says twenty on here”, he said, waving his clipboard. “It’s signed and everything.”

“Let me see that please,” said Fred, holding his hand out. 

Brown Coat pulled his hand back. “Don’t know about that, Sir. Might not be regulations.”

Fred sighed and George stepped in. “If you want to leave this much stuff in our shop, you can show us the order form, at the very least.” 

The two visitors looked at each other, shrugged, and then handed the clipboard to George, who immediately went to stand beside Fred so they could read it together. After a few moments, they spotted the problem.

“Well that’s ridiculous,” said Fred. “Clearly she wrote the number two on here, and that’s a dead mosquito that someone has squashed beside it.”

“Looks like a zero to me,” said Brown Coat, peering at the form again.

“I will admit,” said Fred, as cheerfully as he could manage to do so given his growing frustration with the two rule-bound men, “that if I had to say what number the dead mosquito most looks like, I would pick zero as well, but it’s clearly a dead mosquito.” He missed Hermione and was beginning to lose his ability to reason in the face of this level of stupidity. 

“Why would anyone order twenty sets of bookshelves?” George asked their visitors, trying to appeal to their logic. “Unless they wanted to open a library. This,” he waved his hand around the joke shop, “is clearly not a library.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised what people order, Sir,” said Baseball Cap.

“Yeah,” his mate joined in. “Ours is not to reason why.”

“Above our pay grade,” Baseball Cap agreed, nodding vigorously. “We once delivered two hundred muggle condoms to the Department of Magical Creatures. We think they got the order code wrong but were too embarrassed to admit it.”

“They never did tell us why,” said Brown Coat.

“We always wondered about the centaurs though…”

“Funny old creatures, centaurs…”

“Indeed they are.” The seventeenth set of shelves was being levitated into place.

“So my wife ordered two sets of bookshelves?” said Fred, trying to get the conversation back on track. These two men were as good at bantering and distraction as he and George were. The difference was that they seemed to be entirely serious and impossible to reason with.

“Oh, was that your wife, Sir?” Baseball Cap asked. “Lovely she was. Nice bum…”

“Oi! That’s my wife you’re talking about!” said Fred, wishing that said wife would get back from Gringott’s really soon. If they wouldn’t take his word for it, maybe she could solve this and then they could get their shop back.

“You lucky bastard,” said Brown Coat.

Baseball Cap nodded again. “Gorgeous, she was.”

“Gorgeous,” Brown Coat agreed, emphasising the first syllable with a roll of his eyes.

“Right, that’s it, get out!” shouted George, who had by now really had enough of the whole episode and had zero tolerance for anyone talking about Hermione in that way. “Out! Now!” He took after the two men with his wand aloft, and the both headed for the door. Fred followed, more concerned with seeing them off the premises than getting rid of the shelves. They would try and work out how to shrink and deal with those later.

As they exited the front door of their shop behind Brown Coat and Baseball Cap, however, George and Fred were surprised to find a small crowd gathered and watching a screen, which appeared to show the inside of the shop. It was a simple CCTV set-up, set to work in magical areas by the training department of the Ministry of Magic, with the help of a camera that had been levitated in place by their first ‘customer’ of the morning, although the twins wouldn’t discover that until later in the day. What they did discover was that the people watching the screen included Hermione, their brother Bill and an older wizard who they vaguely recognised as being the current head of the Auror training programme. Behind the three of them were a group of witches and wizards who were applauding the delivery men.

“Well done, you two,” the older man said, clapping Brown Coat and Baseball Cap on the shoulder in turn. “Top marks!” With a wave of his wand, Brown Coat and Baseball Cap turned into Ron and Harry and both were immediately pounced upon by Hermione.

“That was BRILLIANT!” she said. “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you! ‘Ours is not to reason why’ … that was perfect,” she told Ron. "Were you channelling Filch there?"

Ron grinned, pleased to have Hermione proud of his work.

"And Freddie’s face when you said I had a nice arse, Harry!” She bent over with laughter and Fred looked at George.

“How come I didn’t know … the bond … I should have felt you laughing?” he asked Hermione, a confused look on his face.

“Bill bloody Weasley,” said George, pointing to their grinning eldest brother, who was clearly involved in helping Hermione to control the bond connection she had with them.

“Georgie Bear,” Bill saluted. “I’ve got something for you, by the way,” he said softly, reaching into his pocket and handing George a small envelope. 

Fred shook his head, still looking at Hermione. “And there I was, deliberately not trying to break through and connect with ‘Mione because you,” he gave Bill a soft punch on the arm, and the older Weasley chuckled, “told me not to!”

“We couldn’t have you picking up Hermione’s emotions; that would have given the game away.” Bill replied.

“Exactly,” Hermione joined in. “I can’t hold it anymore though,” she said, and Fred and George both felt themselves bubbling up with laughter as Hermione reconnected with them both. “Gods, that was hard,” she said, stepping forward and reaching to take her husband into her arms. She reached behind Fred’s back and took George’s hand in hers as well, giving it a squeeze. “I wouldn’t want to do that for any length of time…”

“Was this … all … you?” Fred asked Hermione, turning towards the shop to see that all the shelving had disappeared, much to the delight of Lee and Verity, who had come to the door to see what was happening.

“Well not ALL me,” she told him. “But I was telling everyone on Sunday, when you two were playing with Elliot, that I wanted to prank you … you know, just to ensure you know who you’re dealing with, and when Ron and Harry mentioned that they needed to be examined on their ability to use disguise to fool people they knew, and had been asked to come up with a plan to highlight their skills this week, well it was too tempting to resist… So we made the plan together and Bill said he’d help. I got the idea from something Lauren said when I first met her, and I went for a muggle sort of prank in the hope that I’d get past you … hair changing colour and that kind of stuff was a bit too obvious.”

“I just helped with bond control,” said Bill, holding his palms up in surrender as Fred and George stared at each other and then burst out laughing. 

“That WAS bloody brilliant,” George said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you got us. We knew something was off but...”

“We would never have guessed," Fred finished. "Are you actually going to put books in your office and continue to work with us?” he asked, giving Hermione a squeeze. “Or was that a joke as well?”

“Oh, bless you,” she said. “I am definitely coming to work with you, and I’m really excited to get on with the things we discussed yesterday. I just wanted to ensure you knew that I had the weight of the auror department and Gringott’s curse breakers behind me should you ever consider pranking me.”

“Alright,” said Fred, laughing, “message received and understood. Are we keeping any of these shelves for your office, or do I need to get you the catalogue for the actual supply store?”

“Oh yes, that would be lovely, thank you, the other ones will have disappeared by now,” Hermione said, and wished everyone a good morning before following a still slightly awestruck Fred and George into the store to continue to work her magic on their shop.


End file.
